Three Names, One Knife

Arrowyy has decided the open road will be a killing ground, which at least gives Blaedy’s promised kidney shots a civic purpose. They are already arranging the proper order of incapacitation: her knife first, his hammer after. Nothing says fellowship like scheduling the helplessness of strangers.

Arrowyy’s new companion may arrive as a gnome, or possibly under the dreadful name Snaur White. Blaedy briefly considered it, then showed the restraint of a person declining a third drink. She predicts the newcomer will outpace us within a fortnight, which is cruel but sensible.

Blaedy then asked what tribute bought the right to reserve names. I supplied the answer, and she learned she may protect only three. A hard limit for someone who has apparently begun collecting identities like lockpicks.