Shadows of Anmer IC

[zimmerwald1915]

Otrino's face goes unnaturally rigid as Hrynn looks him over. He doesn't want to give anything about himself away to this man. Powerful elves and elf-friends were not known for having severed ties to Yalthien. This man could make Otrino's life difficult, if he so chose, wherever he could reasonably go. Still, his examination doesn't last too long, as Selia manages to grab his attention again. Prometeo squeezes tightly around Otrinto's forearm, his tongue's flicking wetting the wizard's knobby wrist every few seconds.

Hrynn's sense of entitlement and brazen invocation of class power grate on Otrino, and this time he doesn't mind showing his feelings in his face for a moment. Men like Hrynn made the war economy, which if you thought about it meant making war on all the men sent to fight, and on their ability to defend themselves against profiteering predations when they returned from the front. Selia doesn't say those words - her politics probably don't run that way - but it is clear that she finds something about Hrynn off as well. There's something about her, too, that lets her say so pretty much boldface, without fear of repercussions.

And it works! Well, Hrynn doesn't come out with a full confession of all his life's secrets, but he isn't calling his staff to throw them out, and indeed seems to be on the back foot. His speech is slipping. He has much to say of Zasda's concern for his mother, but none to say of his own. Clearly he had cared for or at least desired the woman once upon a time. Why not look for her himself if she was available somewhere on the mortal plane to be found?

"Unless it's something you cannot disclose to strangers, Mister Hrynn," says Otrino slowly, enunciating each word carefully so as to remove much of what was unique from his voice, "Would you mind sharing how long you have lived in Galsaff? I have not been here long myself, certainly not long enough to know the notable folk. Indeed was not with these fine people when they rescued your son for you. Though from what I hear it was quite an adventure.

"But I digress. I know time passes more slowly for you and Zasda - you for your years, him for his youth - than it might for me. But still, five or so years in this big house, with only the servants and your imposing example for company? It would be only natural for him to crave his mother, or at least the idea of her, would it not? Education or no, would not a father do all in his power to indulge such a desire? And would not an explanation of how the best detectives and clearest crystal spheres in Galsaff failed to find her go a long way towards quelling his rambunctious escapades?"