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Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska - II


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"Zhat poor Amador lad!" Albrecht Mondblume remarks as he scans the tabloid from behind the counter at Loki's Casino.

"Alvays ein gutt, welcoming fellow.. Mit quite ze nice house." he tuts at the tabloid, chucks it somewhere behind a crate of Carrion Black, then returns to preparing the casino for his first customers.

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Brynaelda Grandaxe sat lazily in a seat in the clan hall, the stout and round dwarfess had clearly put on some weight since her marital festivities in the months prior. Her green gaze peeked over at the pile of work she had to sort, darted longingly to the three slices of fruit tart sitting mere inches out of her grasp, and then curiously, to the two missives that laid to her right. Intrigued, she unfolded the papers and with great interest devoured the contents of 'Hearsay of Hanseti Ruska' Edition I and Edition II. Not only did Bryn pour over the reading, kinsmen can attest that she smiled gleefully. Gossip was her favorite. Especially when the gossip had no repercussions for herself. She leaned back in her chair that released a pained creaking noise under her heft. Her expression of mirth persisted as she dragged the table closer with her foot, in effort to draw the plate of fruit tart nearer. Brynaelda beamed as she noted the names of 'Ser Alric', and 'Mariya Amador'. 

"I know 'em!" The Grandaxe blurted with far too much excitement, as she shoveled the slice of fruit tart messily into her mouth. Dribbles of jam clung to her wiry sideburns as she added, to no kinsman in particular, "He's t'e Squire-Leader-Lad an' she helped rescue my knittin'! ...Poor babby, I'm sure she looked lovely..." Brynaelda lamented over the criticisms of Mariya's wedding in the prior edition before peered over the two missives with adoration, as much as any average mum would be, she too was infatuated with the rumors and blatant drama festering within the writings. "I love a wee bit of romance, there's jus' so much t' take in!" Brynaelda grinned, covering her mouth with her hand as she thought to herself: For the next Squire that comes to me for a trial, I shall ask them about the author of these papers, so that I may send them some tokens of gratitude. Brynaelda nodded affirmingly to herself as she chewed on the pastry. She reached for another off of her plate, her fingers dangling mid-air in hesitation, before lifting the second triumphantly to her mouth. "One more cannae hurt..." Bryn mumbled to reassure herself of her wonderful decisions, raising her tone of voice to call out, "Somebody ought t' find my 'usband! He's nay goin' t' believe w'ot goes on in Haense!" 
After the wise decisions of scarfing two slices of fruit tart down in rapid succession, the Grandaxe Clan Mother hauled herself upwards as a dwarf on a mission; but her enthusiasm was stifled as a cramp settled in at her hip, prompting the woman to settle back down. She muttered under her breath, "I suppose findin' this talented fella can afford t' wait a wee bit... Nay point in rushin' an' lookin' like a crazed admirer."

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