Despite the disastrous beginning, the people of the fort have accepted Eolar and his followers and friends.
Perhaps it is because loss has become second nature to them. Perhaps it is due to the obvious regret and penance.
Selmars, Gelless and Thesis spend time together adapting to their new forms. Ortos takes pains to help them come to terms with their new reality.
Only Enas, the supposedly sane Derro, avoids all contact. It is due to this reserve that Durin in surprised when the pallid Derro knocks timidly on his door.
“May I come in?” he squeaks.
On Durin’s agreement, Enas enters cautiously.
“Forgive my seeming anti-socialness. Most creatures that know of my race, attack me on sight.”
Durin smiles as he remembers Thesis’ reaction.
“I’m wondering if you’d tell me about the Dwarven homeland? The stories I know are distorted by madness and hatred. I would dearly love to hear of our ancestry.”
Durin pulls a face. Despite knowing that Enas is sane, he can’t help feeling uncomfortable.
“It’s my turn on guard duty next. I do the night shift as I can see in the dark. Would you keep me company and tell me some Dwarven fables?”
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1 comment:
Durin's fine with guarding the southern wall tonight, and even though he'd planned on being all gloomy and brooding, he doesn't mind the company. In fact, after the madness of the afternoon, holding a civil conversation with a Derro doesn't seem so out of place.
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