Rhebin

Rhebin slams his spellbook closed, rubbing his temples gently while still reciting one last little Draconic litany.

"I now know more about the smaller people of the world than I ever desired to," he says, his voice once again dripping with sarcasm after a good night's sleep. "And I don't know that I've ever found a spell to go awry. Perhaps if one was so utterly moribund on the literals of the spell, rather than the intent...but I suppose it's different for those whose magic doesn't stem from personal power...enough about it. I don't want to sound like a scholar myself," the zhan says, sharing a quick, joking look with Livina before tucking the spellbook into his satchel.

"I have to wonder, though; even if we do take this work and collect money...what right do we have to pry souls from death?"


((Is it safe to assume that Aidan's come home by now?))