#this interaction went somewhere other than planned lkjnkslg i'm sorry

[nelithic]

as suspected, he is careful. a few idle curiosities will not convince him to divulge more than shallow tales; she will have to resort to methods a thousand years aged and a world apart. but this is little concern; the business of the abyss is the business of a dying world, is the business of an underbelly of dragons.

"i am looking for the answers as to their origin," she states bluntly, though soft — it was fortunate he had approached her at an hour and place where few others roamed, but one could not be certain they were entirely free of nearby ears.

"perhaps this is common knowledge." she knew that it was not. "in which case, you may consider me an ignorant outlander. otherwise, i have wondered if these relics may explain why i was sent here."

detained here, under watch. though she has noticed that the church's eye is not as careful as she had been made to believe. the citizens of the abyss appear at leisure to come and go unmolested, and as far as she has seen, none are under strict guard — their thoughts free to wander and their words to travel. perhaps this is deliberate, but whichever the case, she will not discover anything by waiting for it to fall into her hands.

"i understand that the relics are weapons created during a war in the past, wielded by ten individuals who came to be known as heroes. but in what manner were they made? others who have seen them must realize they are unlike any other weapon."

placid carmine settles, fixes, on yuri's countenance as she leaves that to trail — its end unspoken but expectant. nonhostile but appraising.

It is hardly a stupid question considering her position, but Yuri still can't help their laughter, barked out as the corners of their eyes crinkle and their head shakes. “What do I know of Crests? As much as anyone else in Fódlan.” Little effort is made to disguise the sarcastic lilt of their voice as they continue, “They're gifts from the goddess and you'd be blessed to have one. Each of their weapons has been passed down through the bloodlines of their original holders to their descendants.”

A simple, lazy answer that anyone else could give, but despite Nel's own seeming honesty, Yuri's not inclined to show their whole hand of cards just yet. The Fetters of Dromi rests in their satchel as it always has since they first acquired it, only ever a hand's reach away should they need it. But they can hardly say they know much more than she would as to the Heroes' Relics' origins.

Only that when it calls to them, they want to answer— and that, certainly, is a terrifying prospect when they already know so little.

Head inclines vaguely in the direction of the Shadow Library, a shrug in the rise and fall of their shoulders. “A book will teach you better than I can if you just want a history lesson.”

But who would the Savage Mockingbird be if they did not perk at the mention of rumors? Of course there are strange rumors going around— when were there not, honestly? But Yuri doubts the kind of riddles and blackmail they more often deal with is what she is referring to.

“But if it's not just a history lesson you're after...” The mockingbird's mask falls into place, arms crossing as a brow raises. Secrets have always been their trade, after all, but if Nel wants anything more than what they've offered, she'll have to ask better questions. “...then what sort of rumors have you been hearing, and what sort of answers are you looking for?”