If she hadn't been expecting it, she might have jumped in surprise. The day had started with promise. And there is still promise. But now it's wrapped in shadowy velvet curtains and dark secrets. She looks questioningly at Caio and Astrid, then back at the man in the doorway, as if to ask if she was to be going alone through the door.
We're going into House Sternental - Morgenstern's place- to discuss things with the Master... Don't like the feel. If you come, my shield's at the inn.
Astrid's worried voice rings out in Alaris' mind as they lay in the dirt, groaning and wiping sweat and blood from their face. "Alright, which one of you little scamps knows where Haus Sternental is?" they call out in a battlefield bellow as they push themselves off the training ground. "Hurry, damn your eyes! One of you can earn back the two mark you just lost."
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
"Primorsky district, on ulica Ogrodowa!" Alaris hears one of the nearest boys yell. "Big garden in the oldest part of the city. You can't miss it."
"Just you," the man tells Nimue quietly, yet firmly. He closes the door behind her with a soft click, leaving Astrid and Caio alone in the drawing room.
Once more, the Elven girl is guided down long, shadowy corridors decorated with suits of antiquated armour and oil paintings in gilded frames. Their twisting path takes the man and his charge up a winding staircase and down another long hallway, until they arrive outside a large black door.
"Don't keep him waiting," the man tells Nimue with a kindly smile, before departing back the way they came.
Nimue can feel her heart quicken as she's led deeper into the house. She brushes her dark hair back behind her ear nervously as the well-dressed man retreats the way they came. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid.
"Of course you are, dear. But don't let that stand in your way."
Nimue reaches for the door, her hand shaking. She grips the handle, taking in a deep breath to steady herself. This is what I came here for. I'm not afraid.
She turns the handle, and the door swings wide as she steps into the room.
It takes Nimue's eyes a few moments to adjust to the abundance of light on far side of the door. The entire right wall of the room beyond is an array of high, arching windows that flood it with the meagre daylight of Piotrgrad's cloudy skies. She appears to be in a study of sorts, with a large desk facing her from the opposite side of the room. Stood leant against it is a tall pale elf, dressed all in black. His dark hair has been cropped short against his scalp and he watches Nimue carefully with deep brown eyes as she enters.
"Hello, cousin." The Elvish greeting leaves his lips like a welcome, challenge and test all at the same time.
Nimue regards him with caution and curiosity. He was not what she was expecting, and yet he was exactly as she thought he might be. She shuts the doors behind her and walks forward a few paces, crossing her arms, a neutral expression on her face. "You must be Morgenstern." It wasn't a question. There is an odd feeling building in her chest. Not fear. Her curiosity is starting to outweigh her fear. She raises an eyebrow. "Nice place."
"Call me Valentine," Herr Morgenstern tells Nimue with a friendly grin. He stands and crosses to the window, looking out across the rooftops of the city. "This house is one of the oldest buildings in Piotrgrad," Valentine explains. "It's been in our family since before Belegdin." Turning back to his guest, the Elf gestures across the room to a cabinet on her left. Silver goblets and bottles of alcohol are visible through the glass panes in the doors. "Would you care for some refreshment? Do help yourself."
When Nimue looks back at Valentine, he has his own cup in his hand, although she doesn't recall him holding one before.
"Primorsky district, on ulica Ogrodowa!" Alaris hears one of the nearest boys yell. "Big garden in the oldest part of the city. You can't miss it."
Alaris hurries to their quarters to grab their gear and Hope's Edge, then back down to the stables to find their steed. Back to the Sheep to get the shield, then to Primorsky. Back to the Sheep to get the shield, then to Primorsky.I only hope I can make it in time... they whisper as they move to the summoning stall to see who's there.
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Nimue raises another eyebrow at the glass now mysteriously in his hand. After a moment, she returns the smile, although hers is a little more strained than it should have been. "I appreciate the offer." She turns to the cabinet, and opens it delicately. "Belegdin. I know the word, but I have not heard it spoken often." She pours a small amount of drink into one of the many silver cups, and turns back around, her own dark eyes reflected in his.
"Yes, I suppose that the concept must be inconceivable to one as young as yourself," Valentine muses. He watches Nimue like a cat eyeing a mouse. "Stefan tells me that you wish to know who I am. Could you elaborate a little on that?"
Nimue swirls the cup in her hand thoughtfully, but her mind is racing. How do I bring up the assassination without telling him who I am? Help me. Please. But this time, there is no reply, no quip, to help her through this dilemma. She wonders briefly if he can see through her calm façade to the turmoil inside her. She takes a sip of the drink, focusing on the burn of the alcohol down her throat.
"You've heard the rumors that the Calaquendi Undómiel were wiped out, right? About 100 years ago?" She watches his face carefully.
"You're gambling, Melda. Remember what I told you about that? It never works in your favor." Nimue pointedly ignores her grandmother. She knows the risks, and she's made sure to keep her new acquaintances out of the questioning. This was about her. This was about Morgenstern. This was about what happened to her mother and father. The thing her brother never spoke of. The thing he wants to forget.
"Good luck and be careful... I hope you get some answers,"Astrid offers as Nimue disappears down the hallway.
The dwarf paces the room a few moments to calm her nerves. She stops in front of one of the paintings - a celestial creature emerges from a pool of water and a figure placing some item on an alter before them; in the foreground a red-head woman appears to be praying as a blonde man lies in a pool of blood. "They look to be summoning some sort of angel," so comments absently before continuing her circuit of the room.
Astrid pauses again in front of a the fire place. "There's more than one way to get answers," she mutters. Stooping down, the cleric reaches into the hearth and takes a pinch of the ashes within. With the other hand on her broken timepiece she says, "Show me the time when you burned." The ashes between her fingers begin to glow and flicker like hot coals.
Then they turn back into the temple and make their way to the stables, where a special, oversized stall in the horse barn has been set aside for the use of Bogatyri like Alaris. A perfect circle of mithril is laid into the stone floor, etched with Celestial glyphs and coupled with moonstone and lapis lazuli at points around the circle. The paladin kneels inside the circle and cuts their finger with a ritual blade, then touches the circle with the gift of their life. The mithril begins to glow from within, and the gems glitter with the silvery light. In their mother tongue, they sing...
Lady, your servant calls. Glorify your name!
Lady, this is my hour of need. Bless me, my Lady, with a gift of your grace.
Lady, make me your symbol of joy and beauty and life and peace.
Lady, your servant calls. Glorify your name!
Once the ritual is complete, Alaris will spend some time communing with the steed the spell provides.
Starlight swirls like sparkling silver dust above the mithril disc as Alaris completes their ritual. The angelic runes burn a brilliant white and the rest of the stall fades into inky blackness as a glimmering translucent steed begins to coalesce in the centre. Its celestial splendour illuminates the polished metal with a reflection like that of the moon itself.
Slowly, the radiance fades and the celestial ally that Alaris has called upon assumes a more earthly appearance; a powerfully built warhorse with an unblemished coat of pure alabaster. It neighs earnestly and takes a step towards the Bogatyr, sniffing for their hand.
Zadkiel they hear in their mind. A name in three celestial glyphs.
Alaris hurries to their quarters to grab their gear and Hope's Edge, then back down to the stables to find their steed. Back to the Sheep to get the shield, then to Primorsky. Back to the Sheep to get the shield, then to Primorsky.I only hope I can make it in time... they whisper as they move to the summoning stall to see who's there.
Zadkiel is already tossing his head and stamping his hoofs on the ground when Alaris enters the stall, having sensed their unquiet.
"Good luck and be careful... I hope you get some answers,"Astrid offers as Nimue disappears down the hallway.
The dwarf paces the room a few moments to calm her nerves. She stops in front of one of the paintings - a celestial creature emerges from a pool of water and a figure placing some item on an alter before them; in the foreground a red-head woman appears to be praying as a blonde man lies in a pool of blood. "They look to be summoning some sort of angel," so comments absently before continuing her circuit of the room.
Astrid pauses again in front of a the fire place. "There's more than one way to get answers," she mutters. Stooping down, the cleric reaches into the hearth and takes a pinch of the ashes within. With the other hand on her broken timepiece she says, "Show me the time when you burned." The ashes between her fingers begin to glow and flicker like hot coals.
The glowing ashes drift up into the air, swirling in a vortex as images form before Astrid's eyes. A tall, pale Elven man with a shaven head stands in the room drinking with Clarissa Morgenstern. He's dressed in the timeless, formal style of Taneman nobility and together they toast their glasses.
"The Imperial gala was a great victory. The Ninety-Nine-Hundred have brought us one step closer to the codex," the man remarks with relish.
"...and one step closer to the power of the Reaper." Clarissa adds with a devious smirk. They both drink and then the vision fades.
Zadkiel is already tossing his head and stamping his hoofs on the ground when Alaris enters the stall, having sensed their unquiet. What do you need? I am ready.
"My apologies, lovely - we have friends who may be in danger."The paladin pulls themselves into the saddle and nudges Zadkiel with their knees. The horse rushes forward and they ride hard for the Black Sheep.
Alaris slides out of the saddle and murmurs, "Stay here, Zadkiel; I will be right back." The alabaster warhorse snorts and digs a huge hoof in the dirt, eying passersby warily. Alaris pushes into the main room and call out for Andrei, their full armor a spectacle in the otherwise warm and peaceful room. "Andrei, I think Astrid the Dwarf left her shield with you. She needs it."
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
As Astrid stoops down to divine the past from the ashes in the fireplace, Caio seems to have a vision of his own. "That painting, I've seen it before. Well.. rather I believe the other me has seen it before." His eyes glare towards the doorway where Nimue exited. "I knew these people had some connection to this confluence. Nikolai seems so eager to ignore these blatant signs, so fearful. But there is no truth without danger." He lets out a frustrated huff. "What do you see there, Astrid?"
Nimue swirls the cup in her hand thoughtfully, but her mind is racing. How do I bring up the assassination without telling him who I am? Help me. Please. But this time, there is no reply, no quip, to help her through this dilemma. She wonders briefly if he can see through her calm façade to the turmoil inside her. She takes a sip of the drink, focusing on the burn of the alcohol down her throat.
"You've heard the rumors that the Calaquendi Undómiel were wiped out, right? About 100 years ago?" She watches his face carefully.
"You're gambling, Melda. Remember what I told you about that? It never works in your favor." Nimue pointedly ignores her grandmother. She knows the risks, and she's made sure to keep her new acquaintances out of the questioning. This was about her. This was about Morgenstern. This was about what happened to her mother and father. The thing her brother never spoke of. The thing he wants to forget.
"'Rumours'?" Valentine queries with amusement, taking another sip from his cup. "I personally slaughtered them. They were butchered by my own hand."
A bemused smile sits lightly on the Elf's lips. There's no concern, or regret. If anything, Valentine is a little entertained.
"...and yet here we are, a century later, with you waltzing on into my study as though you're about to ask me to finish the job. Tell me, little Undómiel, did you think that you were the last of our clan?"
"My apologies, lovely - we have friends who may be in danger." The paladin pulls themselves into the saddle and nudges Zadkiel with their knees. The horse rushes forward and they ride hard for the Black Sheep.
Alaris slides out of the saddle and murmurs, "Stay here, Zadkiel; I will be right back." The alabaster warhorse snorts and digs a huge hoof in the dirt, eying passersby warily. Alaris pushes into the main room and call out for Andrei, their full armor a spectacle in the otherwise warm and peaceful room. "Andrei, I think Astrid the Dwarf left her shield with you. She needs it."
Andrei takes the measure of Alaris's situation at a glance and disappears with a nod, before returning not long later with the Dwarven shield and tossing it handily to the paladin.
The cup falls from her hand with a soft clatter, drink spilling on the carpet. A sea of emotions ripples through Nimue all at once. Disbelief, anger, fear, sadness, anger again, finally settling on cold shock. And then it registers. The resemblance was there. How could she not have seen it? And the callousness with which he spoke of their slaughter. It was like a knife to the heart. She can't think. She can barely speak.
"Who are you? Really?" Her eyes are burning with anger, and the old grief that has crept up inside her again. And her eyes ask what her lips cannot. Why?
Astrid's body jolts as she she shunted back to the present. "Whew... First time doing that."She pauses to allow her breath to return to a normal pace. Looking around the quiet room, she first considers answering the question but then steps over to the ranger. "Later...," she pleads with a soft voice. "In case of prying eyes and ears."
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At least a quarter of an hour passes before the door creaks again and the man who greeted them sticks his head inside.
"Herr Morgenstern will see you now," he tells Nimue, beckoning to her to follow.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
If she hadn't been expecting it, she might have jumped in surprise. The day had started with promise. And there is still promise. But now it's wrapped in shadowy velvet curtains and dark secrets. She looks questioningly at Caio and Astrid, then back at the man in the doorway, as if to ask if she was to be going alone through the door.
Astrid's worried voice rings out in Alaris' mind as they lay in the dirt, groaning and wiping sweat and blood from their face. "Alright, which one of you little scamps knows where Haus Sternental is?" they call out in a battlefield bellow as they push themselves off the training ground. "Hurry, damn your eyes! One of you can earn back the two mark you just lost."
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
"Primorsky district, on ulica Ogrodowa!" Alaris hears one of the nearest boys yell. "Big garden in the oldest part of the city. You can't miss it."
"Just you," the man tells Nimue quietly, yet firmly. He closes the door behind her with a soft click, leaving Astrid and Caio alone in the drawing room.
Once more, the Elven girl is guided down long, shadowy corridors decorated with suits of antiquated armour and oil paintings in gilded frames. Their twisting path takes the man and his charge up a winding staircase and down another long hallway, until they arrive outside a large black door.
"Don't keep him waiting," the man tells Nimue with a kindly smile, before departing back the way they came.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Nimue can feel her heart quicken as she's led deeper into the house. She brushes her dark hair back behind her ear nervously as the well-dressed man retreats the way they came. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid.
"Of course you are, dear. But don't let that stand in your way."
Nimue reaches for the door, her hand shaking. She grips the handle, taking in a deep breath to steady herself. This is what I came here for. I'm not afraid.
She turns the handle, and the door swings wide as she steps into the room.
It takes Nimue's eyes a few moments to adjust to the abundance of light on far side of the door. The entire right wall of the room beyond is an array of high, arching windows that flood it with the meagre daylight of Piotrgrad's cloudy skies. She appears to be in a study of sorts, with a large desk facing her from the opposite side of the room. Stood leant against it is a tall pale elf, dressed all in black. His dark hair has been cropped short against his scalp and he watches Nimue carefully with deep brown eyes as she enters.
"Hello, cousin." The Elvish greeting leaves his lips like a welcome, challenge and test all at the same time.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Nimue regards him with caution and curiosity. He was not what she was expecting, and yet he was exactly as she thought he might be. She shuts the doors behind her and walks forward a few paces, crossing her arms, a neutral expression on her face. "You must be Morgenstern." It wasn't a question. There is an odd feeling building in her chest. Not fear. Her curiosity is starting to outweigh her fear. She raises an eyebrow. "Nice place."
"Call me Valentine," Herr Morgenstern tells Nimue with a friendly grin. He stands and crosses to the window, looking out across the rooftops of the city. "This house is one of the oldest buildings in Piotrgrad," Valentine explains. "It's been in our family since before Belegdin." Turning back to his guest, the Elf gestures across the room to a cabinet on her left. Silver goblets and bottles of alcohol are visible through the glass panes in the doors. "Would you care for some refreshment? Do help yourself."
When Nimue looks back at Valentine, he has his own cup in his hand, although she doesn't recall him holding one before.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Alaris hurries to their quarters to grab their gear and Hope's Edge, then back down to the stables to find their steed. Back to the Sheep to get the shield, then to Primorsky. Back to the Sheep to get the shield, then to Primorsky. I only hope I can make it in time... they whisper as they move to the summoning stall to see who's there.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Nimue raises another eyebrow at the glass now mysteriously in his hand. After a moment, she returns the smile, although hers is a little more strained than it should have been. "I appreciate the offer." She turns to the cabinet, and opens it delicately. "Belegdin. I know the word, but I have not heard it spoken often." She pours a small amount of drink into one of the many silver cups, and turns back around, her own dark eyes reflected in his.
"Yes, I suppose that the concept must be inconceivable to one as young as yourself," Valentine muses. He watches Nimue like a cat eyeing a mouse. "Stefan tells me that you wish to know who I am. Could you elaborate a little on that?"
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Nimue swirls the cup in her hand thoughtfully, but her mind is racing. How do I bring up the assassination without telling him who I am? Help me. Please. But this time, there is no reply, no quip, to help her through this dilemma. She wonders briefly if he can see through her calm façade to the turmoil inside her. She takes a sip of the drink, focusing on the burn of the alcohol down her throat.
"You've heard the rumors that the Calaquendi Undómiel were wiped out, right? About 100 years ago?" She watches his face carefully.
"You're gambling, Melda. Remember what I told you about that? It never works in your favor." Nimue pointedly ignores her grandmother. She knows the risks, and she's made sure to keep her new acquaintances out of the questioning. This was about her. This was about Morgenstern. This was about what happened to her mother and father. The thing her brother never spoke of. The thing he wants to forget.
"Good luck and be careful... I hope you get some answers," Astrid offers as Nimue disappears down the hallway.
The dwarf paces the room a few moments to calm her nerves. She stops in front of one of the paintings - a celestial creature emerges from a pool of water and a figure placing some item on an alter before them; in the foreground a red-head woman appears to be praying as a blonde man lies in a pool of blood. "They look to be summoning some sort of angel," so comments absently before continuing her circuit of the room.
Astrid pauses again in front of a the fire place. "There's more than one way to get answers," she mutters. Stooping down, the cleric reaches into the hearth and takes a pinch of the ashes within. With the other hand on her broken timepiece she says, "Show me the time when you burned." The ashes between her fingers begin to glow and flicker like hot coals.
Starlight swirls like sparkling silver dust above the mithril disc as Alaris completes their ritual. The angelic runes burn a brilliant white and the rest of the stall fades into inky blackness as a glimmering translucent steed begins to coalesce in the centre. Its celestial splendour illuminates the polished metal with a reflection like that of the moon itself.
Slowly, the radiance fades and the celestial ally that Alaris has called upon assumes a more earthly appearance; a powerfully built warhorse with an unblemished coat of pure alabaster. It neighs earnestly and takes a step towards the Bogatyr, sniffing for their hand.
Zadkiel they hear in their mind. A name in three celestial glyphs.
Zadkiel is already tossing his head and stamping his hoofs on the ground when Alaris enters the stall, having sensed their unquiet.
What do you need? I am ready.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
The glowing ashes drift up into the air, swirling in a vortex as images form before Astrid's eyes. A tall, pale Elven man with a shaven head stands in the room drinking with Clarissa Morgenstern. He's dressed in the timeless, formal style of Taneman nobility and together they toast their glasses.
"The Imperial gala was a great victory. The Ninety-Nine-Hundred have brought us one step closer to the codex," the man remarks with relish.
"...and one step closer to the power of the Reaper." Clarissa adds with a devious smirk. They both drink and then the vision fades.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
"My apologies, lovely - we have friends who may be in danger." The paladin pulls themselves into the saddle and nudges Zadkiel with their knees. The horse rushes forward and they ride hard for the Black Sheep.
Alaris slides out of the saddle and murmurs, "Stay here, Zadkiel; I will be right back." The alabaster warhorse snorts and digs a huge hoof in the dirt, eying passersby warily. Alaris pushes into the main room and call out for Andrei, their full armor a spectacle in the otherwise warm and peaceful room. "Andrei, I think Astrid the Dwarf left her shield with you. She needs it."
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
As Astrid stoops down to divine the past from the ashes in the fireplace, Caio seems to have a vision of his own. "That painting, I've seen it before. Well.. rather I believe the other me has seen it before." His eyes glare towards the doorway where Nimue exited. "I knew these people had some connection to this confluence. Nikolai seems so eager to ignore these blatant signs, so fearful. But there is no truth without danger." He lets out a frustrated huff. "What do you see there, Astrid?"
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
"'Rumours'?" Valentine queries with amusement, taking another sip from his cup. "I personally slaughtered them. They were butchered by my own hand."
A bemused smile sits lightly on the Elf's lips. There's no concern, or regret. If anything, Valentine is a little entertained.
"...and yet here we are, a century later, with you waltzing on into my study as though you're about to ask me to finish the job. Tell me, little Undómiel, did you think that you were the last of our clan?"
Andrei takes the measure of Alaris's situation at a glance and disappears with a nod, before returning not long later with the Dwarven shield and tossing it handily to the paladin.
"Good hunting," he wishes them with serious eyes.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
The cup falls from her hand with a soft clatter, drink spilling on the carpet. A sea of emotions ripples through Nimue all at once. Disbelief, anger, fear, sadness, anger again, finally settling on cold shock. And then it registers. The resemblance was there. How could she not have seen it? And the callousness with which he spoke of their slaughter. It was like a knife to the heart. She can't think. She can barely speak.
"Who are you? Really?" Her eyes are burning with anger, and the old grief that has crept up inside her again. And her eyes ask what her lips cannot. Why?
Astrid's body jolts as she she shunted back to the present. "Whew... First time doing that." She pauses to allow her breath to return to a normal pace. Looking around the quiet room, she first considers answering the question but then steps over to the ranger. "Later...," she pleads with a soft voice. "In case of prying eyes and ears."