She turns to look at you. “Yes? What is it?”
Now that you’re getting a closer look at her face, she looks… tired. (In the sense of not sleeping enough, not the sense of physical exhaustion.)
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(what Squirrel quoted)
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He’s already explained-
Paprika decided to let that repetition go. Instead, she cut in with a lecture:
“Just as the mystery of the disappearing crime scene was solved by determining who would actively choose to take the actions demonstrated before us, this mystery will be solved by determining why these cultists are worshipping an obscure deity such as Flauros. How did they learn of Flauros-worship? Who has a desire for what he offers?”
“I’m… doing something that involves talking to…” My mind starts to shut down the more and more I push myself. One more conversation. Then it’s done. “…You used to live closer to the baron…” I awkwardly leave that as a statement of fact instead of a rhetorical question. “…Could you tell me what you know of him, or. Any. stories? You have about him?”
“Arsonists? Dragons?” suggests the older Watchman. “No one would worship a demon lord unless they were an easily-manipulated fool.”
“Or just a bad person,” says the younger Watchman.
“Even then, it wouldn’t be enough on its own,” says the older Watchman.
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“Desperation would be a factor.” He seems to be speaking from experience.
“What aid would Flauros offer?”
“Who was the individual who was worshipping Flauros decades ago? Do they walk free? Do they have connection to any of the villagers today?” Paprika presses forward. “Has anybody had motive to turn their backs on the righteous gods? Do we even know if this is the work of multiple people? The need for lockpicking talent is certainly obsolete.”
He sees the line. Oh he hates it so much. But it’s true. He…holds his tongue.
“Oh, yes,” she says. “You know, I’ve heard all these rumors, but… I had a sister, you know, a few years older than me. She was killed back in ‘89, and when the baron found out, he decided he’d pension off her family, even though it wasn’t like they’d had any sort of relationship to each other. He’d have been a young man — maybe not even a man, yet, I’m not certain one way or the other — and I remember thinking, wow, it’s like he’s a prince from a children’s story, who actually cares about his people.”
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“All the demon lords offer power to their followers. But that power comes with a price, and the price is never worth it.”
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The older guard looks rather taken aback. “No, no, of course they didn’t walk free. What do you take this town for, some kind of anarchy?” He gestures around the room again. “In any case, if this were all the work of one person, they’d have no need to attract attention by setting up in here. It would be easy enough for a single person to worship in secret without getting caught, if they weren’t stupid about it.”
“Many demon-worshippers are stupid about it,” says the younger guard helpfully.
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He nods. This is known, but it’s good to hear it back.
“Dragons were mentioned. I’ve an understanding that Choral and more broadly Rogarvia are associated with dragons. Is this understanding seemingly correct?”
(Sleeping)
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Your impression is that by the end of the conversation he was being basically honest with you — in Mel’s case, he admitted that he didn’t know all the details, but you don’t think he was intentionally trying to trick you. (You get the impression that earlier in the conversation, he was rather worried that you might be reporting back to the baron, and particularly worried that you might get his kid that you met in trouble.)
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“Choral had allies among the dragons,” says the older guard. “But he’s been gone for two centuries, and I doubt his allies have much interest in a town like this.”
Drakor flicked his hand off of his greataxe.
Dragons?
“…”
“I don’t…”
“…I don’t really get why he would do a thing for. Her family. When.”
“…So many people suffer every single day. Why did he decide to alleviate the suffering from only her family?”