"…That makes sense, actually, yes."

She's not sure why he needed to take four words to say, what, that he only said things that were true? She's not sure how much stock to put in his prediction that Xykon won't win, though it is somewhat comforting that the first she's heard of the lich here is that.

"Is there anything else that seems relevant to you? Before we, ah, call wife anyway?"

"The failure rate of Sending aside, no. And also, no, we are not calling my wife anyway."

"Why not? It was your suggestion first."

"Yes, it was. But - listen."

He sighs, or at least sounds like it.

"The experiment was over. I don't need emotional distractions right now. He knows that I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't mentioned it. And he knows something that I don't, that makes him say I should. Maybe he thinks it's in my best interest to do it, and if so, he's probably right. But if you let people tell you what to do just because they're right, then people can control you by being right. And some people are always right. And I do not want those people to be able to use me."

Pause. "Except, well. As a sword, I suppose. You needn't worry."

This sounds absolutely ridiculous. Of course you should do what people tell you if they're right.

But, well. One of the more dangerous kinds of person is the one who always seems right. The one who can talk anyone in circles and provide heaps of compelling evidence for why their beliefs are correct and why what they want to do is the best option.

(She thinks, of all things, of the goblin at the watchtower. Xykon's lackey, who liked the sound of his own voice.)

"Very well. She isn't getting any deader, at any rate."

She peeks out of the tent to look at the

Oh, right.

She opens her pack. It had a masterwork shovel; is there any sort of timekeeping device on hand?

There are several hour-candles, one of which it might have been useful to light several hours ago. There is an hourglass likewise. There is some kind of gnomish-looking device that displays something going forward at one second per second, but the format is unfamiliar.

Yeah, that would have been useful. She can do that tomorrow night, if she hasn't already gotten a sense of the little tinkertown thing by then.

Lann said that down here they keep time by gong. This implies someone who keeps time in some other fashion so they can ring this gong correctly.

"I'm going to find someone who knows what time it is," she says conversationally, then leaves her tent once again to do so.

Agurdha's still there!

That she is!

"Do you know what time it is? Or where the person who rings the gong is?"

"Well it's not gong," she says reasonably. "Could be half gong, or half-more-than-half gong. Candlekeep's up the hill, lives next to Chief Sull, y'remember Sull, yes, the big toothy one."

"I remember Sull," she assures Agurdha, though Miko's not sure how she knows she met him. Maybe it's just something that happens with anyone who visits the village. "Thank you."

She makes her way to where she met with Sull earlier.

It's easy to spot the young Neather sitting by the hour-candle. (On account of the candle, you see.) She's a much more humanoid-typical specimen than the median, her main "tell" being a coat of iridescent scales that shimmer beautifully in the flickering light. She's playing knucklebones against a similarly-aged lad with one protrusive compound eye and a patch over the other; by the looks of it, she's trouncing him.

She looks up at Miko, and her forked tongue flicks out involuntarily. "Hi," she says, falsely casual.

What, is it something on her face? The forcedness of her tone is lost on Miko anyway.

"Hello," she replies. "I wanted to know what time it is, approximately speaking."

She glances over at the hour-candle and at a heavily chalked slate behind it. "Um... well, I can't help if you want sun-time, haha, but it's eighty-three percent since last gong... the bright thing was you, right? That was at nineteen percent. That help?"

Okay, so the next gong will be in… mental math, mental math… around two hours? And she met with Sull about two hours after the previous gong, so… eight hours ago. Excellent.

"Yes, on both counts. Thank you."

The girl smiles a little more relaxedly. Bug-eye boy starts rattling fingerbones at her, and she goes back to the game.

Well, hopefully it's just a game and they aren't gambling.

She returns to her tent and lights an hour-candle. Time to meditate.

When the hour-candle goes out, she packs her things away. She'd like to walk around town until the gong, see if anyone from earlier is up yet.

Dyra's up and about! So's Sull.

So's Camellia. She leans against a cavern wall, filing her nails. (They're very sharp.)

Oh, fantastic. Miko's not typically a particularly social creature, but she feels like her brain needs a diversion from spending all night experimenting with spells.

"Good morning!" she says to Dyra. "Or—whatever you say down here; I noticed that there seems to be someone awake at all times."

"Huh!" Dyra says thoughtfully. "I think we just say hello. I guess it's pretty hard to ignore the sun, if you're on the surface? - oh, and. Hello!"

What a charming kid!

"Rather. We don't really try to ignore it, which might be an adjustment for you, now that I think of it."