[ P ] Audit et videt

Isn’t it ironic, Falltore thought to himself as he laid eyes upon it, how something designed to give such a bold statement could be so… disappointing. The College of Eolas, as it was now called, was once a rather large manor home. What was once acres upon acres of wasted space was now… a place where young wolves trying to “find themselves” in the most predictable ways gathered. He rarely visited the previous campus, back before it had been abandoned (and, of course, not briefly occupied by a few worthless pro-Jacobites stranded south of the wall). The atmosphere of places like this never were comforting to him, perhaps because the lives of college students were those he could not, or would not, relate to. And now, seeing the college crammed into some estate as if it were scraps to be stored for later. Even if the estate was far too large for one family to enjoy, Falltore still considered the fit to be so poor. While he admired the patriotism the family had shown by such a generous gesture, he often wondered what kept the college from returning to where it once had been.

But, considering such trivial, insignificant manners, were not why he had come to the campus, looking through the massive residence rather than at it. The college, to him, was… curious, with regards to its relationship to the Crown. No doubt, it was indebted to it, for it was perhaps through its oversight and approval that it exists even at all. And still, open a door too wide, and any creature can enter right in. Falltore was not ignorant of certain viewpoints, if not vile rumors, he had heard about Provost Anola, though by no means was that by far the most interesting one. It seemed that there was always some semblance of poisonous ideas hanging above the college, like a small cloud on a cloudless day that just so happens to be blotting out the sun. Why, Falltore wondered, would those who had been given so much, be so ignorant of where their freedoms and power came from? And why was it that it was allowed to continue? Perhaps, that is why he felt uneasy in such a place. For the first time in quite a while, he felt, truly, in a foreign place.

Surely his appearance was bound to become a distraction. A few, select individuals he had come across recently might even feel displeased to see his scarred visage again. Some might even spread rumors of their own, that someone was under arrest. Either way, it mattered not, as long as he could understand, in the flesh, whether these stories of corruption held any merit, and if anything might be done to address them. Of course, such was a delicate game. King Adamh himself had relaxed censorship, an act that had made manners for Falltore a bit more difficult. And yet… the job must be done, even if there might be some objections to it. Would would the manner in which he acquired his eyes and ears matter, so long as it ensured the realm’s safety?