Emet-Selch gives him a cold, hard, assessing look. The fist at his side tightens as he struggles with what to do.
Even if an illusion, he's not been one to turn away the company of a shade over something authentic. He made the whole of Amaurot beneath the waves of the Tempest, after all - an illusion on a grand scale filled with imitations of people who once were. Could he really refuse this company? Someone who looked as they had such a soul?
He lets out a frustrated sigh. The answer, obviously, being no.
Emet-Selch motions to the place by his bedroll. "Very well. If you're so intent on indulging me, then sit." He makes to sit back down as well and resume his vigil next to the fire. "Tell me of how you found your way here. Or whatever stray whims come to mind."
no subject
Even if an illusion, he's not been one to turn away the company of a shade over something authentic. He made the whole of Amaurot beneath the waves of the Tempest, after all - an illusion on a grand scale filled with imitations of people who once were. Could he really refuse this company? Someone who looked as they had such a soul?
He lets out a frustrated sigh. The answer, obviously, being no.
Emet-Selch motions to the place by his bedroll. "Very well. If you're so intent on indulging me, then sit." He makes to sit back down as well and resume his vigil next to the fire. "Tell me of how you found your way here. Or whatever stray whims come to mind."