Weaver of Shadows
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Edgar looked up at her and smiled weakly, trying to compose himself. “Sorry for all of this.”
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“Just leave, please,” he said weakly, still not looking up.
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Edgar just shook his head, not looking up.
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Another tear made its way down Edgar’s face. “We got swarmed and separated by a group of hellhounds. I tried to fight my way to her but…well…I couldn’t get there fast enough, ok?” He sank back down to his seat, bowing his head and trying to hide the tears flowing freely down his cheeks.
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“Like I said, she was killed. And like you said, it was by monsters. But I didn’t abandon her.”
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“Nice to meet you too,” he said, shaking her hand without taking his eyes off Roy.
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“I’m Edgar.”
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“Thank you?” He looked at her, trying to figure out if she was messing with him.
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“My old friend. I went on a quest with her…she didn’t make it.” A tear fell from his face. “I tried to save her but…I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough.” He turned back to Roy. “I didn’t abandon her though.”
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Edgar stood angrily, knocking ash off the table. “I did not! Don’t speak of things you don’t know.” His Gift shifted, anticipating his needs, extending the blade in his hand to a shortsword.
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Edgar scoffed. “I’m no traitor, what gave you that idea? What’s your problem with me?”
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“Careful!” he said urgently, worried. “Don’t cut yourself!” “I don’t really know why people care, but…well I’ve never been an animal person myself, so I wouldn’t know anyway.”
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“Wow, that’s cool, I’ll make sure to say hi if I see one. What all can your necromancy do?” he asked, leaning forward, legitimately intrigued.
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“Huh. That’s…interesting. What reasons do you have to use it?”
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He laughed again. “Yes, kind of, sometimes, and yes.” He lifted his hand, and the Gift flowed again, forming a hilt in his hand, then a blade, almost exactly mimicking Jenny’s knife.
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He grinned back at her. It had been a long time since someone had treated him like this. “Wow, that’s really interesting. Like I said…be careful, please.” He looked down at his hand. “That’s my Gift, the only thing my dad’s ever really given me. It transforms to what I need at the moment, it’s very useful sometimes.”
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Edgar glanced back at Roy, then just shook his head in disgust, turning back to Jenny.
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Edgar laughed, a gentle, kind laugh. “I see. Make sure you’re careful with it, ok?” He looked closely at the living flower. “It is pretty! How does it deliver its poison?” His Gift morphed into a glove around his right hand.
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He waved halfheartedly as she made her way over, not expecting her to actually sit by him. When she did and offered him the ash, he smiled again. “Sure, I guess. Is this ash special?” He took a little, sniffing it himself.
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Edgar looked at Jenny and smiled. Anther outcast, though for seemingly different reasons. He wished she would talk to him, she seemed nice enough if one ignored her…eccentricities. The gods knew he had enough of those to not judge.
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Edgar raised an eyebrow at Roy. What? He mouthed.
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Why’s he looking at me again? What’s his problem? Edgar thought, looking at Roy.
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Ooh, warlocks are fun! Favorite race and background in DnD?
