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Summary
The woman barely hesitates. “Iveress, of the Sporekeepers.” Her voice is surprisingly meek when she’s neither insulting nor threatening him. A small part of him wonders - dreads - whether she didn't see as much of him as he did of her. “I’ve been studying fungal properties and how they might be used to link individual minds, similar to how illithids communicate. When I saw the ship flying overhead, I thought I’d get a closer look, maybe find something to further my research - and, well,” she cants slightly, somewhat chagrined, “I suppose you could say I ended up getting a little closer than I'd have liked.”