As the Storyteller finished what was left of his either really dull or really great history lesson, he swept the crowd to gauge their reactions. Some seemed to have shown an interest in what he said, others slept away boredom. At least he wasn’t getting a bunch of footwear in his face like last time. “So, what did you think of the lesson, young ones?” The Storyteller flashed a gleaming smile. Ezio, with his feet propped against the counter, shrugged. He had already known most of this since he, himself, was human. He was taught in the orphanage so he really didn’t care. The only thing that concerned him was the man’s prediction of war. The Rising Star Alliance and the Red Moon Pact may have their differences, but surely they knew that they could pound at each other with no winner. Or did they? Ezio didn’t care. It just meant more gold slipping between his fingers thanks to increased work. He decided not to dwell on it anymore and ordered another cup of ale from the orcish bartender. “Here’s your poison,” the orc chuckled. He slide the cup towards Ezio and he gulped it down like a thirsty camel. Sulking in a corner, shrouded by shadow and donning a light grey coat, Hera analyzed the account. She knew what the elderly human was saying as she had survived through these ‘Ages’ that the humans have taken to calling. Or did they call themselves elves now? Erg, too many confusing names. Hera simply nodded towards the Storyteller who saw only her human-like face. Underneath that coat was a body made of metal and wires. She didn’t want anyone to see her ‘demonic’ nature. How much time had passed since machines so were commonplace, but now they’re rare and fatal. Something must have happened to their programming as the locals she met after her awaking had called her demon. Hera went back to reading the book she got after some drunkard tried fighting her. She needed to learn as much of this new world as she could possibly could so she could navigate the dangerous, turbulent waters of this world.