06-08-2014, 08:05 AM
Armande allowed the student to approach. At the moment, he was on good footing and surrounded by a suitable radius for an altercation should one ensue between them. The student could take the risk of traversing uneven terrain, if there were any. These tunnels had the feeling of homemade engineering, Armande trusted their stability little more than he trusted what lived within them.
As the student came within the globe of Armande's flashlight, he was studied very thoroughly. The man's hands were raised in a non-threatening manner. Beneath dark attire Armande guessed the most likely locations he might conceal an edged weapon. If he were to settle on a less civilized offense and fired a gun, he should aim for Armande's face, as the liquid kevlar of his body armor would stop anything likely to be fired at this distance; he'd not survive a second chance to shoot.
"You have insightful questions," Armande replied. His posture was kept at a slight pivot, his weight balanced from one leg to the next, a defensive posture. He would not be taken by surprise. Yet the tone of his conversation remained academic. He recognized Rome on the young man's tongue; similar sounds slept on his own, but the accent of his native land were long diluted since an orphaned boyhood. More prevalent were the decades of Cairo's influence. The trained ear might discover Jerusalem, Boston, and everywhere in between should they listen well-enough.
"I know of similar rumors and seek these groups as well. We must know if these peoples, or what they harbor, if anything, are dangerous."
A twist and the flashlight transitioned from a solitary beam to a diffusable glow that illuminated their surroundings and each other. Armande set the lamp on the ground at his feet while not taking his eyes off the student. Wary men survive the dark, and Armande was far underground.
"Historians believed the first dwellers were driven to seek refuge in the undercity during the creation of The Pale by Catherine the Great in 1791 to remove Jews from Imperial Russia, and herd them to designated lands on the western borders of the empire. Three-hundred and fifty years later, you are seeking their descendants; who can guess what sort of remnant survives from their forefathers?" Armande's gaze lifted to the arc of the tunnel's ceiling. There were still many levels to descend before reaching the rumored destination. Armande had not delved so deep himself as his intentions for this day, but with a companion, perhaps he might finally see the strange jewels of the underground city.
"I seek answers to the same questions as you. Let us journey together, as there will be dangers to pass before we reach them. If they even exist." Behind the wisps of hair concealing the corners of his mouth, his lips moved into something resembling a smile. "I am called Armande."
As the student came within the globe of Armande's flashlight, he was studied very thoroughly. The man's hands were raised in a non-threatening manner. Beneath dark attire Armande guessed the most likely locations he might conceal an edged weapon. If he were to settle on a less civilized offense and fired a gun, he should aim for Armande's face, as the liquid kevlar of his body armor would stop anything likely to be fired at this distance; he'd not survive a second chance to shoot.
"You have insightful questions," Armande replied. His posture was kept at a slight pivot, his weight balanced from one leg to the next, a defensive posture. He would not be taken by surprise. Yet the tone of his conversation remained academic. He recognized Rome on the young man's tongue; similar sounds slept on his own, but the accent of his native land were long diluted since an orphaned boyhood. More prevalent were the decades of Cairo's influence. The trained ear might discover Jerusalem, Boston, and everywhere in between should they listen well-enough.
"I know of similar rumors and seek these groups as well. We must know if these peoples, or what they harbor, if anything, are dangerous."
A twist and the flashlight transitioned from a solitary beam to a diffusable glow that illuminated their surroundings and each other. Armande set the lamp on the ground at his feet while not taking his eyes off the student. Wary men survive the dark, and Armande was far underground.
"Historians believed the first dwellers were driven to seek refuge in the undercity during the creation of The Pale by Catherine the Great in 1791 to remove Jews from Imperial Russia, and herd them to designated lands on the western borders of the empire. Three-hundred and fifty years later, you are seeking their descendants; who can guess what sort of remnant survives from their forefathers?" Armande's gaze lifted to the arc of the tunnel's ceiling. There were still many levels to descend before reaching the rumored destination. Armande had not delved so deep himself as his intentions for this day, but with a companion, perhaps he might finally see the strange jewels of the underground city.
"I seek answers to the same questions as you. Let us journey together, as there will be dangers to pass before we reach them. If they even exist." Behind the wisps of hair concealing the corners of his mouth, his lips moved into something resembling a smile. "I am called Armande."