{Alastair cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at the desk behind them.} Easier said than done, when they're so good at cleaning up after themselves.
{Strangely enough, the Drow's meticulous attention to organization makes it incredibly difficult to find exactly what Alastair wants. It's bad enough that they make their base with local nobles whom they have seemingly threatened, brainwashed, or shallowly bribed.
You would think Alastair would put about as much care into keeping things tidy as he rummages through drawers and leatherbound portfolios as he does doing his hair in the morning. The thing is, Alastair achieves the same effect with both: to make it appear as though nothing ever happened.
Nimble fingers flick through pages under the audience of a pair of focused eyes and a wrinkled brow, ears straining to keep themselves trained on every sound beyond the feathery sighs of parchment displacing the air around them.
Alastair may not be able to read Undercommon, but he knows a freaking map when he sees it--
...Wait.
Like a spring, he jumps up, slapping his forehead.} They're too damn smart for that, ohh...! {Hands are now clawing at the crown of his hair as he looks at Lee.}
Lee, they wouldn't have drawn maps, that's too obvious. They might not have even written down the location, not anywhere where someone may try to decipher it! If they kept a record at all, it would keep it well hidden from the naked eye...
no subject
{Strangely enough, the Drow's meticulous attention to organization makes it incredibly difficult to find exactly what Alastair wants. It's bad enough that they make their base with local nobles whom they have seemingly threatened, brainwashed, or shallowly bribed.
You would think Alastair would put about as much care into keeping things tidy as he rummages through drawers and leatherbound portfolios as he does doing his hair in the morning. The thing is, Alastair achieves the same effect with both: to make it appear as though nothing ever happened.
Nimble fingers flick through pages under the audience of a pair of focused eyes and a wrinkled brow, ears straining to keep themselves trained on every sound beyond the feathery sighs of parchment displacing the air around them.
Alastair may not be able to read Undercommon, but he knows a freaking map when he sees it--
...Wait.
Like a spring, he jumps up, slapping his forehead.} They're too damn smart for that, ohh...! {Hands are now clawing at the crown of his hair as he looks at Lee.}
Lee, they wouldn't have drawn maps, that's too obvious. They might not have even written down the location, not anywhere where someone may try to decipher it! If they kept a record at all, it would keep it well hidden from the naked eye...