Successful Mission

[Bjorn]

Bjorn grunts.  "Another thing to worry about," he says sourly.  "Thank you for warning me."  

He sighs, thinking, and then glances at her out of the corner of his eye.  "Can I ask what you know of Madame Lindsey?  Under the circumstances..."

[Brian]

"Nothing," she says, shaking her head.  "She serves at a different temple ... though, she is a servant of Aestock, not Liena.  We wouldn't have met."

[Bjorn]

"Eh?" says Bjorn, confused temporarily, before remembing.  "Ah, that's right.  I knew that, and I just assumed Parthipan made a mistake."  He snorts slightly, amused, before sobering again.  "Hrmph.  I can't think of any way to discover her motives without revealing more about myself than I should."  He grimaces.  "Too early to take that risk."

He walks along a few more steps in silence (generally wandering in the direction of Ekim's forge), before speaking again.  "May I ask you some questions about... Grizelda?"

[Brian]

"Certaintly," Mirallia replies.  "Are you able to remember anything of her?"

[Bjorn]

"Nothing beyond what you've told me," Bjorn replies.  "But she turned down the mission to the Keep?"

[Brian]

Mirallia frowns.  "This is true.  She was older ... not, I suppose, old, yet.  But she was older than I, and more experienced.  Not very severe, always calm ... I thought her the perfect fit for the role she would have served here."  She sighs, and taps a finger to her chin.  "I thought it odd she would have me sent, in her stead."

[Bjorn]

"Very odd," Bjorn muses.  "Did she give any reason?"

[Brian]

"She said that she felt I should go, and what would come next would be what was meant to be," Mirallia says, shrugging.  "I ... did not truly understand it.  I still do not.  Perhaps it was some bit of prophecy, and as unlikely as it may seem, this is the best possible outcome."  She shivers at that.  "I'm not sure I'd like that idea."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn sighs.  "A prophecy?  Or..." he pauses.  "I don't mean to offend," he continues, quietly, "but is there any chance that she became an agent of the Dreadmarch?"

[Brian]

Mirallia freezes, missing a step, and turns to look at you strangely.  After a while, she sighs, slumping slightly.  "It is possible, I suppose," she admits.  "It would explain a lot ... she was the one who asked for you to join the caravan to the temple for the Year of Meditation preceeding the arrival of the Dreadmarch."

[Bjorn]

"I see," Bjorn said.  "And that is how we... got to know each other?"  

I am not blushing.

[Brian]

You may not blush, but Mirallia does.  She nods, and coughs a bit.  "That was ... yes.  That was how it began."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn frowns.  "It's hard to say," he mutters.  "On one hand, she might be a cunning schemer -- but as a plan, it lacks certainty.  On the other hand, if she were acting on a prophecy, then she could have acted for either side."  Bjorn's lips twist behind his hatefully unfamiliar beard.  "We won't know for sure until we ask her or it's over, either way."

He shakes his head.  "I can't say I like this sort of thing," he confesses ruefully.  "I think far too much."  Cocking an eyebrow, he changes the topic.  "There's little in particular I need to do for the moment, save for try and speak with Master Radagast and visit Master Ekim.  Is there something you wish to take care of, in the meantime?"

[Brian]

"No," she says, shaking her head.  "Nothing, but thank you for your courtesy."

She remains silent until you reach the forge, which was the general direction you were heading.

From the outside, it's brightly lit, the hammer ringing against the anvil with rythymic regularity.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn gives Mirallia a concerned glance, but says nothing.  Instead, he steps forward to the door to the forge, and waits for Ekim to notice him.