Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 16 HP: 27/27
PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9
Conditions: --
Concentration: --

"Moira...spirits, no. Not her."

There is something wrong. Set watches Chief Moeller crumple the letter, unable to hide the turmoil written all over his face until he closes his eyes and recenters himself. But then, after sharing the hunter's tale, Moeller uncrumples the letter to reexamine it before stuffing it into his coat pocket. There is something very wrong. Who is this man? Where is the Chief who inspired fear and respect? Where is the Maus Moeller who's back bent under the weight of his responsibility, but would not break?

"We'll confront at midnight..."

Set winced, Vargath's words falling like a hammer on the table as his tone seemed to brook no argument. Set watched Chief Moeller, looking for his reaction to being told this was no longer his business. Whatever Set might've felt for the man yesterday under similar circumstances, today Set felt like a man fresh off a tightrope, legs still shaking after coming perilously close to plunging into the abyss. But where Set was trying to get used to having his feet planted back on solid ground, Moeller looked like a man still waving his arms frantically, trying not to fall. What about this Moira had taken a man as solid as the Chief and pushed him off balance?

Set narrows his eyes, staring at the Chief intently while trying to think back, but he feels sure of one thing. He doesn't know enough about the Chief to know who this Moira is or what power she might hold over Moeller. For a moment, Set feels his stomach twist as he struggles to figure out what he should do. From one liar to another, Set could smell a truth buried in Moeller, but not well-hidden. The idea makes Set avert his gaze, staring down at the table, thoughts swirling. He'd told his companions there would be no more lies. But he couldn't out the Chief. Even if the Chief had outed a secret of Set's yesterday by referring to his dark presence, Chief Moeller was no Jemriah. Well, neither was Jemriah, but the point was, Moeller was a good man just trying to do the right thing.

Set's eyes veer North, his thoughts following as they find his guiding star. She already knew, or had at the very least noticed Moeller's distress. If it was good and right that she should do so, Birel would ask the Chief or inform the others. Set visibly relaxed then, a sigh of relief escaping him even as the others' focus only seemed to intensify on the task ahead. The Chief hadn't lied and neither would Set. Both of them just had more truth to tell.