"Have any of you ever been to the Old Gonn branch?"
After traveling the roads for a considerable span, their acquaintance had ripened into a longstanding bond. Though the tides of fortune and mood might occasionally conspire to sow discord, such vagaries were but fleeting shadows, incapable of severing the sturdy cords of their friendship.
Their camaraderie was forged in the crucible of shared purpose, bound by a pledge to stand as one, in life and in death. Thus, it was not uncommon for Triss to set aside her tumultuous nature, for the harmony of their fellowship was paramount.
"Not me, but the old man has."
Three pairs of eyes, out of the four assembled, turned expectantly towards Zeta, the wielder of smoke, seeking enlightenment.
"Huff... Just a few times."
"And? Is that all?"
"What exactly are you trying to find out?"
"Does this city have any history or something?"
