¶ I. b. While he doesn't struggle to read like he used to, before spending so many years in the Dyrwood, and spending time with people such as Kana and Aloth especially, it's still...it's overwhelming, to be surrounded by so many books. No matter how often he visits libraries like this one, he doubts his awe will ever fully fade, nor his quickness to take advantage of it, devouring as much knowledge as he can.
Starting, naturally, with whatever books he can find of this Snow Queen he takes his power from now, and it's not long before he has a stack of several books and anthologies surrounding him on one of the tables. He gets through each of them slowly, losing track of time as he reads, but eventually he sits back in his seat, thoughtful.
"She was lonely," he says after a moment, less to his companion than to himself, and his face softens in sympathy as he puts the book back down on the table. "I do not think she even realized that she was. I've seen it push people to terrible things, and that boy was lucky to be rescued."
c. It seems a bit silly that a book is supposed to be sending out messages for him, if he's honest. But after studying it, and finding nothing really suspicious...
Hájo?
His handwriting is...shaky, at best. But hopefully it's still legible to anyone reading it. And after a few moments of waiting, Daryn hunches over the journal, brow furrowed in concentration, and starts to...
Well. He starts to sketch out a messy image of something that looks suspiciously like a wolf. Large, thick furred, and with incredibly long teeth. Without Eskel there to take reference of, he can only hope it's as true to memory as possible.
Particularly the dopey face and the lolling tongue.
That is definitely not the image of a vicious beast.
¶ II. b. It started out like something of a game for him. One person climbs up the spout, and the rest of them protect that person. A great way to practice his skills, and get a handle on the powers that his essence offered. How to manipulate it to his needs, how far he could push before the icy grip of frost around his heart became too much.
It was easy enough at first, actually, now that he finally had a new bow in hand. Now that he'd figured out how to properly create and maintain it's form and function, how to fire off sturdy arrows of ice, the inky dark blots that pursued them were simple enough to dispatch. Climbing the spout itself took some work, but Daryn found he could also easily provide useful, if chilly, hand and foot holds as needed. For a time.
It stopped being so simple, higher up. Between trying to fire on those manning the water cannons above and trying to shield his struggling companion from worst of the deluge, Daryn almost doesn't notice the deep rumble of thunder rolling above them. Not until the second crack sounds, raising the hair on the back of his neck, and he looks to the sky, eyes wide in alarm.
"Skyt." He throws the bow across his back and quickly leans over the edge of the rubber platform he'd perched himself on, holding out a cold, calloused hand for the "spider" still climbing below. "Come, you need to get on here, now."
Daryn, The Watcher | Pillars of Eternity | The Snow Queen
b.
While he doesn't struggle to read like he used to, before spending so many years in the Dyrwood, and spending time with people such as Kana and Aloth especially, it's still...it's overwhelming, to be surrounded by so many books. No matter how often he visits libraries like this one, he doubts his awe will ever fully fade, nor his quickness to take advantage of it, devouring as much knowledge as he can.
Starting, naturally, with whatever books he can find of this Snow Queen he takes his power from now, and it's not long before he has a stack of several books and anthologies surrounding him on one of the tables. He gets through each of them slowly, losing track of time as he reads, but eventually he sits back in his seat, thoughtful.
"She was lonely," he says after a moment, less to his companion than to himself, and his face softens in sympathy as he puts the book back down on the table. "I do not think she even realized that she was. I've seen it push people to terrible things, and that boy was lucky to be rescued."
c.
It seems a bit silly that a book is supposed to be sending out messages for him, if he's honest. But after studying it, and finding nothing really suspicious...
Hájo?
His handwriting is...shaky, at best. But hopefully it's still legible to anyone reading it. And after a few moments of waiting, Daryn hunches over the journal, brow furrowed in concentration, and starts to...
Well. He starts to sketch out a messy image of something that looks suspiciously like a wolf. Large, thick furred, and with incredibly long teeth. Without Eskel there to take reference of, he can only hope it's as true to memory as possible.
Particularly the dopey face and the lolling tongue.
That is definitely not the image of a vicious beast.
¶ II.
b.
It started out like something of a game for him. One person climbs up the spout, and the rest of them protect that person. A great way to practice his skills, and get a handle on the powers that his essence offered. How to manipulate it to his needs, how far he could push before the icy grip of frost around his heart became too much.
It was easy enough at first, actually, now that he finally had a new bow in hand. Now that he'd figured out how to properly create and maintain it's form and function, how to fire off sturdy arrows of ice, the inky dark blots that pursued them were simple enough to dispatch. Climbing the spout itself took some work, but Daryn found he could also easily provide useful, if chilly, hand and foot holds as needed. For a time.
It stopped being so simple, higher up. Between trying to fire on those manning the water cannons above and trying to shield his struggling companion from worst of the deluge, Daryn almost doesn't notice the deep rumble of thunder rolling above them. Not until the second crack sounds, raising the hair on the back of his neck, and he looks to the sky, eyes wide in alarm.
"Skyt." He throws the bow across his back and quickly leans over the edge of the rubber platform he'd perched himself on, holding out a cold, calloused hand for the "spider" still climbing below. "Come, you need to get on here, now."