[This guy is stalking through the streets, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched, trying his best to ignore the world around him. Definitely not the movements of a drone. He'll frown slightly when approached by someone wielding knives openly.]
She grows quiet, but apart from faint surprise, doesn't react too badly beyond that.]
Yet we're kept alive. Is it demonic sorcery? [She's not wholly involved with the occult, but she's caught enough talk about the Sacred Stones and fought enough undead and horrors to believe it, were he to answer yes.]
[Having been to her share of taverns and spent most of her life aside men twice her size who were also mercenaries who worked for none other than themselves, just stares aren't enough to bother her. She proceeds as if nothing is out of place.]
So we're trapped. What happens to our home countries, and the people there? [This detour was annoying, but Ephraim and Eirika's army can go on without her. Her main concern were really Gerik's Mercenaries; her co-workers knew her, and they may look for her.]
Are they the people who act like zombies? [It may be an extreme comparison, but that's how she sees it. These people who didn't glance at her when she stared... Their movements were all eerily uniform. They were living and look fine, but something was just off.]
What.
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Do you live here?
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No one here does. Everyone in this town has been kidnapped and dropped here, and there's no way out. I've been here for a year now. Welcome to Hell.
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She grows quiet, but apart from faint surprise, doesn't react too badly beyond that.]
Yet we're kept alive. Is it demonic sorcery? [She's not wholly involved with the occult, but she's caught enough talk about the Sacred Stones and fought enough undead and horrors to believe it, were he to answer yes.]
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[He's still a bit guarded, since she's armed. His eyes flick back to her knives every so often.]
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So we're trapped. What happens to our home countries, and the people there? [This detour was annoying, but Ephraim and Eirika's army can go on without her. Her main concern were really Gerik's Mercenaries; her co-workers knew her, and they may look for her.]
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[A beat.]
Are they the people who act like zombies? [It may be an extreme comparison, but that's how she sees it. These people who didn't glance at her when she stared... Their movements were all eerily uniform. They were living and look fine, but something was just off.]
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What am I expected to do, here?
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