She was just about to hand over the paper...when she stopped. She had understandable confusion, questions... Yes, he had anticipated this. At some point, he knew that - somehow - someone would have to hear the damnedable thing that he had lived with his entire life, the very essence of the thing that drove him to his deeds with surch fervor, nay obsession. He hadn't told anybody, save for Concord, who would not see it in the same light as he did. No, for it to be truly appreciated, the mindset must be that of one of the humanoid races, with humanoid reasoning. So...to interrupt Elan's concerns for his privacy, he held up a hand.
"No need to apologize. I had made up my mind that this was how it was going to unfold back in the tavern."
He turned, giving the spider a pat on the leg to indicate she no longer needed to remain still. This was going to take a bit, so no need to bother her over it. He turned back to Elan now, a bit more
somber in demeanor.
"Do you remember when I told you the true tale of my becoming such a dedicated thief and rogue? I spoke of the exterminations, and then I mentioned the survivors? Well, the thing of it is that in these attacks on goblinkind, there sometimes is an argument: 'What about the children? They will grow up to be a new goblin menace, will they not?'. Some say yes, and kill them. Others say no, and leave them, never realizing the horrible mistake that they've made."
He then made a gesture with his hands, indicating something of small size, smaller than him.
"Goblings are small creatures. My people are
already small, imagine the difficulty for one to fend for oneself in a ransacked and dead goblin colony. It can't be done. They will inevitably starve to death. Except..."
His hands lowered, as did his eyes to the ground.
"Except if one preys upon what is
left. We were barely aware of ourselves, just creatures of need, to be nurtured by parents who had been killed trying to defend our home. I was only
just able to understand that they weren't coming back, and I became so hungry... I
needed food, or I would simply die. I was the strongest, and that wasn't saying much, but I was the one who fought the hardest to live. I was forced to eat my siblings to survive and, once nourished, fed off of anything else I happened to find...at least until I understood what I'd been doing."
He looked up at her, and suddenly it was all over his face: The tortured look of having lived through that which was too much to accept, an act too terrible to face alone...yet it must. Elan would know that look, because she had shown it to
him, hours ago.
"These eyes of mine are a mark of the Blight, a corruption which - in this case - stemmed from having done what I did. I never even knew their names... The only thing that grants me any comfort is my work, that I fight with every breath to prevent this sort of thing from happening as it does. It's true that I've done it largely for my own kind. Who wouldn't? Or rather, who
would stand up for my kind but one of their own?"
He sighed, and then put back on his mask.
"That doesn't entirely explain you, of course, but I think you can guess by now. Nobody should be forced to do things to one's own family, or watch them die while powerless to do anything. I will admit that it's a coincidence that I stole from your convoy, or that I made little attempt to kill anybody there. I
do kill people in my line of work. It was from what I learned in the tavern that bade me to act this way. I'm sure that I have brought suffering to families, one way or another, but I do not operate the same way as Laython. I am not senselessly cruel, nor a tormenting sadist. I make off like a thief in the night, and I use the tools at my disposal."
Concord had been walking around, but now came up behind Gary and seemed to nuzzle him.
"When it comes to familial disaster, I forgot about species for a while, and just go with the flow."
