NERON
the hailstorm
Ooh, but if Wessex doesn’t know how to strike a presence. It’s true, Neron does arch an eyebrow at the way she approaches the suddenly-small-child who has come to join them, the Hailstorm strumming his fingers along the back of the couch he’s sitting on. He listens, quietly and intently, tilting his head to the Wraith when she’s finished before glancing about expectantly. And when no one else pipes up, he does.
”A secret task? Now you are just teasing,” he drawls. ”Count me in. As for the rest, you already know my decision. As I said last year, I’ll fight your monsters. As it happens, I no longer have a Citadel to worry about.” His shrug is lazy. He doesn’t seem bothered by it.
Neron volunteers for the extra task for the Voice, and votes to fight the monsters as promised.
”A secret task? Now you are just teasing,” he drawls. ”Count me in. As for the rest, you already know my decision. As I said last year, I’ll fight your monsters. As it happens, I no longer have a Citadel to worry about.” His shrug is lazy. He doesn’t seem bothered by it.
Neron volunteers for the extra task for the Voice, and votes to fight the monsters as promised.
