WISE MEN WONDER WHILE STRONG MEN DIE
”Warden, forgive me for saying so, but you think everything I do is part of some kind of scheme. Why would this be any different?” Neron asked mildly, not seeming to mind it at all. Suspicion was good, especially in a place like Halo. It kept you alive and it made for good leadership, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was always well founded. Her question was a curious one - personal, almost, and not something he had expected.
Drumming his fingers along the arm of the chair, he shrugged. ”My eldest brother owned the Tempest Tavern, back in Northaven,” he said slowly. ”I had seen him work there, watched the pride he took in the place. And when it transpired that the Kraai needed someone to oversee it... call it nostalgia. I thought I’d give it a try. Besides, I think the Citadel would fall if the people did not have a decent watering hole.”
Drumming his fingers along the arm of the chair, he shrugged. ”My eldest brother owned the Tempest Tavern, back in Northaven,” he said slowly. ”I had seen him work there, watched the pride he took in the place. And when it transpired that the Kraai needed someone to oversee it... call it nostalgia. I thought I’d give it a try. Besides, I think the Citadel would fall if the people did not have a decent watering hole.”
