[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b]
[hr]
[b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] The Cazt Mausoleum
[b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b] [@VitaVitaAR]
[hr]

	'He'? 'Never meant to go this way?' The witch's scattered mumbling narrowed down a few things and broadened some others. It would mean, much to Lein's chagrin, that the decision to send out an assassin on her lonesome was very much intended; whether or not her success was warranted was yet unclear. Whoever was calling the shots was either that vampire, the man with the amulet or the necromancer. One had seemingly vanished in place of a demon, another's broken body now lay stone dead just a few strides across. And if Serenity was telling the truth, this Damon vampire had retreated after Serenity's duel with him. There was still a few loose threads left, and this witch was yet a font of these uncertainties.

	One fact remained: this plot was dead. Whether the mastermind was crushed by the meteoric charge of Gerard or chased away by Serenity, the players had all packed and left. There would be nothing more to gain from wheedling more from anyone, and the conspiracy was out of Lein's reach and Lein's care. All that remained was simply to pick up what few hours remained in the evening and return home...well, whatever that meant. Outside of these infested walls, anything would be preferable. Lein silently looked down at the witch, prostrating on the floor and whispering her regrets, and let the tension in his bowstring go with a sigh.

	The enemy that he knew and was about to pierce with his arrow was gone, replaced with this stranger cradling a memento. The Barukstaedian, this witch - their way of mourning was foreign to him. He didn't even know what the owner of this axe was called. But the cold daze that twisted the face of the witch was easy enough to see. Lein knelt down onto one knee and mustered something from his hazy memories of Reonite chants. [color=orange]"We accept the gracious gift of our departed strength and uphold the burden and glory of his life as our own. May his deliverance be gentle and the guidance of the lamps ever clear."[/color] It was a recount unfamiliar to both the witch and Hundi. Hopefully, it would be enough to make his presence by her side known. Grief was the loneliest feeling known by everyone, after all, and innocence had little say in it.

	And well, he didn't know how aware the witch was, but he'll have to tie the strand now, just in case. [color=orange]"Have your moment of grief, and cherish what you know of him - but if ever a day comes when you want to hunt the one that condemned your partner to his death, seek the castle in Aimlenn and ask after Lein of the Roses. I'll be ready."[/color] And for now, the Hundi remained, kneeling in parity against the mourning, listening for the judgement to arrive.