[ Fane is in a particularly cheerful corner of the island, having essentially immediately gone towards it. It’s a corner that’s probably particularly offensive to those of you with, you know. Noses. Because there are carts piled up with rotting bodies, and down a slope into the Deathfog-covered sea is a pile of them. Like the rest of the island, it’s all deeply unpleasant.

But Fane is having a conversation when you walk up. If you’re spiritually sensitive, you’ll see a ghost standing there talking to him, but if not…. He seems to be just talking to himself quite animatedly. ]

—Yes, yes, you don’t need to go over it all again. Like I said, I know. I’ve had the displeasure of visiting your wretched island once before. Just tell me what you know about the Advocate and we can all move on and I’ll leave you to… Whatever it is you people do.

[ It doesn’t take long before Fane has decided that 1) this place sucks and 2) he hates it. Considering the paintings and statues, there’s no need to guess who this world belongs to, and it’s another occasion where Fane laments that this demon/devil/whatever in the Void he wants to call himself is on his side. Why wasn’t he just a Zenite so that he could kill him? Honestly. Rude of him.

But you’ll find Fane doing something… Strange. After a few hours in this horrible manor, he’s gone to the chamber with the feast of plenty and taken a plate. There’s probably an idea that maybe this is…. Good? For Fane? Considering his skeletal state. But, no. This is much stupider and much pettier than that.

With purpose he heads towards one of those massive portraits and once there’s no one around to see it… He takes a fistful and chucks it at it. ]

Horrible creature… [ He murmurs it with a hiss, but jumps a bit as someone approaches, since he’s full expecting a fight for getting caught red-handed, but no. He pauses, looking over his new company appraisingly, then holds out the plate as he scoffs. ] Your turn, I suppose?

[ As soon as Fane had gotten a sense of this city, he had been very quick to take up a Disguise Self spell to blend in. It’s just the first person that he’d gotten a good enough glimpse of to be able to copy decently, so he’s taken up the appearance of a scholarly looking Drow man, but unfortunately for Fane, he’d been a bit too quick in picking his disguise. “Man” was not the best choice here, as it turns out. Especially not when you’re a mouthy little shit like Fane.

Luckily, the enterprising Jarlaxle had already sniffed out these new, foreign arrivals and seen opportunity in it. After smoothly stepping in and diffusing tension before Fane probably would have gotten soundly executed, Fane has ended up with… A job, of sorts.

It’s why when he sees a Shard-Bearer (or someone he has a good guess at being one), Fane is fairly quick to approach. ]

First, I shall get this out of the way, I’m Fane. It’s easier to move about like this, or so I thought. [ He sniffs derisively, but it comes with a wave of his hand. ] No matter. I’ve another task to accomplish, apparently, lest the jackal I stumbled across offer me as a curiosity. How is your thievery, may I ask?

[ Well. Jarlaxle sure knows how to pick ‘em, at least. ]

[ Knowhere is one of the strangest worlds to Fane, since it’s truly nothing like the world he came from or even what he can imagine. He’s at least treated decently enough by the people, or at least not given trouble about it, which is all he ultimately asks. So he spends his searching here taking in the sights and jotting things down in his ever-present notebook. It’s going to be filled up during this Oracle, he’s sure.

But eventually, he makes his way to the eyes of the station. The technology is all far beyond him, but the landing pad is more the draw than anything else. He ends up standing as close as is safe to the edge as possible (…not that it’s quite so much a problem for him, admittedly), and just quietly staring out into the stars and the vast expanse beyond. ]

You know…

[ Apparently, he realizes someone else is there after all, though he’d made no indication of it. His voice is gentle and thoughtful. ]

This is the sort of thing I would dream about. The sort of thing I researched tirelessly for centuries, in a way. It’s the very fabric of the world, and… There it all is.

[ A pause lingers a little longer before he continues. ]

It’s an incredible sight. Would it be that I were seeing it in Rivellon instead.

[ The usual! If we plotted something else or you have another idea, hit me up with something new! ]