You know how it goes. Sometimes a little genocide brings out the best in people. Or at least the most pragmatic.

[ The wine isn't nearly enough to get him even close to drunk, but it'll be enough to help him sleep.

He pauses for a long, long time. ]

There's- there's shit I can't tell you yet. And it's not because we want to keep secrets from you. I just- cant. [ The fire crackles, and he squints his eyes at it. ] But have you heard of a place called Lindenfeld?