“This is your room. Well then! Have a good night, dear adventurers!”

The tavern girl gave them a big smile and a perky wave. She descended the ladder with a bounce to her step. Even from up here, the raucous sound of energetic discussion, on the verge of the tipping of chairs and throwing of tables, was heard from the dining hall.



( It was a long but narrow room, barely lit and even less furnished. )

“I submit to you the Weaver. Not as a counteroffer, but as a peace offering, to wipe the slate clean.”

Rhea did not look impressed. “What are these piles of wood and metal to me, King Godfrey?”



( His throat ran dry. But he would not lose his voice this time. )

Well, it's sorta the first post... the first non-story post.

Been busy preparing to head back to uni the past few days, so I haven't been able to stay as updated as I wanted. I should be sleeping or packing right now, but instead, I felt like sharing a screencappy of Rhea's cave. (It also doesn't help that I'm so excited that we're almost at the end of this story :D!!!)



My mental image of this place was a dark cave with a ceiling so high it was drownededed in teh darkness, and stacks and stacks of cloth rolls lined the walls as far up as the eye could see. Kinda like imposing library shelves. Somehow, that translated to this. I like it, but the terrain is a bitch for sims to navigate. Nothing pops a character's facade like watching sim!Traum complaining about a miniscule bump on the floor...

A bit silly and unnecessary, maybe, but some of the pictures are so dark, I just had to have this up. Just so anyone who's been unable to sleep, wondering WhereTF Solia's cave is respective to the teapot, can now know. Now you know.

NOW YOU KNOW.

( A bit early for outtakes? Do these even count as outtakes? Oh well! )

As the knight and princess emerged through the smoke, the entire cell collapsed behind them. Its sturdy and stoic structure, unaffected by the tools of man, fell like children’s blocks to the ground.

Iulius carried Solia towards the entrance. As they passed the rugs and cloths Traum had examined, a faint circle of light surrounded them. It glowed with a sharp, white brightness that brought him to a halt; then dimmed into a faint glimmer on the ground.



( Rhea’s expression darkened… )

“…By the end of winter, the first shipment arrived. They were the best quality we’d ever had.”



( Godfrey felt the scar along Solia’s cheek, running from ear to mouth. )

When he began this mission, two years ago, he swore to accept anything the world threw at him, and use any way he discovered usable, to save his only family. All the riches the cloth trade brought him, Godfrey channelled into a singularly determined effort to find her. He dealt steadily with the sleepless nights, the relentless research, the pointless adventurers, the Guild.

Never wavering. Never stopping. Now his daughter was but a few steps away.



( Suddenly, Godfrey felt afraid. )

It was a narrow mine, with few divisions to the main vein. The air was thick with disuse, smelling of mildew and slugs and those various unpleasant bits of nature that made little boys squeal in delight.

Not tonight, though. In this unpleasant air, the flame of their torch struggled for survival, forcing them to tread slowly around open holes and slippery moss in near darkness.



( No squealing was to be heard for hours. )

The intrepid traveller, like every noble profession, had its cardinal rules.

This is one of them: do not follow butterflies into a forest at night.



( Thankfully, there weren’t any forests worth the name in Goldweaver. )

The king and the Aegis waited by the town’s eastern entrance in the pre-dawn night. In several hours, the castle would awaken, and the page would find a scroll announcing the king’s departure. For now, except for the sleeping guard slouched against the wall, there was no one else.

That was good. The king was never one for ceremony.



( At any rate, Traum’s decision left no time... )