"Whether it's the mean streets of Cathena or the Grungeworks of the Brass City," he said of his penchant for blades, "a man has to look out for himself. Fists are fine. Knives can warn people off. Firearms tend to be final." He shrugged. "I'm used to the other shoe dropping. I don't want to be back outside your wards without 'em is all."
Aurin considered before answering.
"The Brenner Dornkirk I met was charming. A man's man. He had the sort of generosity of men born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Money doesn't mean much to them because they have never been without it. That in itself isn't bad... He was fun. Witty. Knew how to have a good time. I heard a thousand variations of what happened at the Palace. I wasn't there. Didn't seem the underhanded assassin type to me, but again, I didn't know him well or long. And everything I've heard is that Kalzasi was not behind... the mutants. I mean, there are conspiracy theorists, of course, and diehard patriots who like to think their rulers could do this to their enemies." He shook his head. "I admire him for what I found admirable. I don't have enough knowledge or... really... right to judge him. Doesn't make sense to me that they all would have gone to the trouble of sending their crown prince here and then Zaichaeri luminaries to his wedding, all these diplomatic gestures, just to assassinate and commit holocausts at first opportunity."
He sighed. He shrugged.
"It's a fucked up world. I just live in it."
Once in the mess hall, Aurin gave it his usual once-over. He liked to know where exits were, and where threats might arise. He nodded at the instructions, and laughed at what the cook said as he was walking over to pour two coffees. The milk was powdered and he wasn't sure about the sugar, so he decided just to go with black and bitter, and sat down at a table with his back to the wall. He nudged one of the other chairs out to make the PFC's sitting easier.
When he arrived with whatever the mystery non-meat special was, Aurin flashed a white smirk.
"Thanks, Schönling."
Aurin considered before answering.
"The Brenner Dornkirk I met was charming. A man's man. He had the sort of generosity of men born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Money doesn't mean much to them because they have never been without it. That in itself isn't bad... He was fun. Witty. Knew how to have a good time. I heard a thousand variations of what happened at the Palace. I wasn't there. Didn't seem the underhanded assassin type to me, but again, I didn't know him well or long. And everything I've heard is that Kalzasi was not behind... the mutants. I mean, there are conspiracy theorists, of course, and diehard patriots who like to think their rulers could do this to their enemies." He shook his head. "I admire him for what I found admirable. I don't have enough knowledge or... really... right to judge him. Doesn't make sense to me that they all would have gone to the trouble of sending their crown prince here and then Zaichaeri luminaries to his wedding, all these diplomatic gestures, just to assassinate and commit holocausts at first opportunity."
He sighed. He shrugged.
"It's a fucked up world. I just live in it."
Once in the mess hall, Aurin gave it his usual once-over. He liked to know where exits were, and where threats might arise. He nodded at the instructions, and laughed at what the cook said as he was walking over to pour two coffees. The milk was powdered and he wasn't sure about the sugar, so he decided just to go with black and bitter, and sat down at a table with his back to the wall. He nudged one of the other chairs out to make the PFC's sitting easier.
When he arrived with whatever the mystery non-meat special was, Aurin flashed a white smirk.
"Thanks, Schönling."