[ Reynir listens to Carlisle with his back turned; he's going to stay that way as long as the other man needs, because customs are customs and he's a good host. He listens to Carlisle's words, trying to conjure up a picture of what the place must have looked like in his mind. He's always been curious about other countries, other places. It sounds like a fairly sharp and unforgiving landscape, surrounding the valley itself.
There is only one part of the description that doesn't make very much sense. Reynir wonders sometimes, how much might be lost in translation, and how much is just him being ignorant. ]
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There is only one part of the description that doesn't make very much sense. Reynir wonders sometimes, how much might be lost in translation, and how much is just him being ignorant. ]
What's necromancy?