*Darien stands silent for a few moment, staring into the distance, and finally speaks, "They've got it wrong," he says to the air. "They've got it wrong. The damn tree... it's only the money that Lairds Lonsdale and Raeburn want; they don't appreciate the strength of the trunk, the depth of the roots, or how the apples exude good. The apples bring financal security, therefore the tree remains. Too few other trees on either property; did you notice that? It's all been cleared for vine and plow, but that damned tree is still there.

I'm not blaming the tree, mind you. The tree is a metaphor, an allegory of fickleness and want. Give me an elf, any day! Oh, you can say that "dwarves don't like elves and elves look down on dwarves," but we know what matters. We care about the product, not the profit, the beauty, and strength, the skill." With this, Darien seems to sink into himself again. He just had a thought, and it bodes ill-fortune: "the Raiders, too, seek the profits, and don't seem to care about those things that are nobler." He cements his chin: that is why they need the amulet, and that is why he wrote the agreement. He pats Harvey on the back and turns back into the room, again determined to finish this.*
Darien@frostknights.com


It is the enemy you underestimate who kills you.