IC Contact Post [Hadriel]

[mismanagement]

This is Maketh Tua. State your business.

Comments

[mismanagement]

Oh? Do I count?

[She's teasing, a little.]

So modest.

I am glad that we met. In case that was ever in doubt.

[hotspurred]

That I must consider--

But nay. It is good to hear, regardless.

My tale is one shared by many here. Half of us, at the time. One morrow I awoke in a coffin. I had been buried alive six foot beneath the earth, courtesy of Fear. Fear gave us three days' worth of air.

It was Dorian who dug me free. Without gloves, I should mention. The miserable state of his hands made for a stark contrast to the finery of his attire. It spoke eloquently of his great integrity. So did his sincere joy at saving my life, though I was not one of his two comrades whom he had sought to rescue.

I swore on my honour that I would see my debt to him repaid. That has yet to happen. However it did afford me reason to seek him out.

[mismanagement]

I had heard of that. It seems this place is determined to make introductions under dire circumstance. The opportunity to repay your debt may yet appear.

Do you think Dorian has recovered from our festivities?

[hotspurred]

Perhaps not, if you be yet pained. Worthy of inquiry, certes.

[mismanagement]

I'm told this is a talent of mine. But I shall send him a message to be sure.

[hotspurred]

Good woman.

Let us take nuncheon together after.

[mismanagement]

I would enjoy that.