one by one, the pile’s stacked on rod’s held-out arms. the scroll set a worrying furrow in his brow, but the rest of it all smoothed it away. morgan wasn’t about to assign him a term paper, ask him which impossibly named bones were where, or pull case studies and expect him to know names and dates.
that brief spike of fear was enough to rouse the demigod fully, his attention blooming toward morgan like an idle flame stoked to life. “a ziggu-what?” he chimed; the word sounded familiar, but he got more grins from letting people explain their passions. (plus, it kept him from bad assumptions.) “an hour, a day, however long this is. I’m yours, man.” his grin was wide and casual as he moved to follow at morgan’s side, knocking his elbow into the tiefling’s arm. (his hands were full.) “are there more shrines? outside the big temple with everyone, where anyone can hear you?”
After a breath, Morgan digressed, “Don’t worry about it.”
There was no need to get overly technical about the matter. Rod wouldn’t ever be an acolyte himself, what spurred Morgan to offer this was his wards interest to learn. That wasn’t the most common trait in demigods. The tiefling huffs a short laugh, “I’ve no intention of keeping you at the alter so long. Unless you want to stay. Consider this a tour.”
As they walked, Morgan listened for more of Rod’s specific questions. Some, he wasn’t so prepared to answer. “I believe most of us keep a personal alter... or many.” He smiled at the thought this caoxed up. “Hera’s acolyte, Jassin, could turn a smoke break into his time to convene.”
