Chimper #606
Aitarou the Jovial knows the exact weight of every lie told within the fortress of midnight stone. They spend their days by the reflecting pools, casting a line that never catches fish, a harmless fixture against the backdrop of spinning monoliths. The other magicians see an eccentric elder, sharing gossip and complaints without noticing how Aitarou’s eyes, hidden behind dark lenses, track the auras of deceit that cling to people like perfume. The fishing rod is an arcane antenna, humming with intercepted whispers. The Green Dragon robes are not ceremonial; they dampen magical detection. Every cheerful greeting is a calculation. Aitarou’s greatest secret is not what they know, but for whom they collect it.
