Osric chuckled at the gibe; subtle, petty insults were just another facet of life amongst thieves, pirates, scrags, coves, and all other seaworthies of note. He'd grown accustomed to this long ago, and if Nero thought that a few measly words were going to shake him, he was wrong. That said, the man seemed to be in genuinely good humor for once, a nice contrast to their first meeting. It was entirely possible that those words had been thrown out there by mere habit, without venom or ill intent.
Astoundin'. How in the seven hells did you talk him 'round to meetin' with me again, Roen?
Did it matter?
Somethin's off. Somethin's different about him. He's--
Did it matter?
Mayhap this time, each of us'll be willin' t'hear out the other.
"Not like I chose the venue, but seein' as how it suits you, I ain't goin' t'complain."
The soldier took a long, slow pull from his glass as he peered over the rim and across the room at the smuggler. The man's near-fall off his stool elicited a small smirk. The next few words out of Nero's mouth, though, dashed most if not all of Osric's hopes to the ground. He shook his head and sighed.
"Ruin you, eh?"
He paused. It was a small pause, just long enough to take a short, quick sip of ale, just long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He coughed as he lowered his glass, made an effort to cover his face with the back of one gauntleted hand. He set his tumbler aside, then gripped the edge of the bar as he turned to face the smuggler once more.
"That's our problem, ain't it, yours and mine? You think I mean t'ruin you. Think I want you ruined, you and your plans." He scoffed. "Think it through. You ain't some wool-headed gadabout, nor some liver-bellied scrag what can't face the truth."Â
His voice dropped a register, fell from a boisterous volume to a whisper, and if sheer will had been as much a force to be reckoned with as aether, he'd have pinned Nero to the man's seat with his stare.
"Tell me something, Sebastian. Why am I here, alone, meeting with you, while my fellow servicemen board Maelstrom vessels and perish by the dozens when your own ships send theirs to the bottom of the Rhotano? Why am I committin' treason, lettin' you walk and leavin' you free, rather than calling in my men to clap you in irons, when a mere drop of my name and rank in the right place and the right time by you and yours could have me executed?"
He leaned forward and threw out his hands.
"Why would I be doin' any of this if what I wanted was to ruin you?"
Osric snorted as he pushed himself to his feet, turned to pick up his glass and threw back the rest of his drink. He glanced at Nero as he plucked the bottle and the spare tumbler off the countertop and walked over to the smuggler's table.
Astoundin'. How in the seven hells did you talk him 'round to meetin' with me again, Roen?
Did it matter?
Somethin's off. Somethin's different about him. He's--
Did it matter?
Mayhap this time, each of us'll be willin' t'hear out the other.
"Not like I chose the venue, but seein' as how it suits you, I ain't goin' t'complain."
The soldier took a long, slow pull from his glass as he peered over the rim and across the room at the smuggler. The man's near-fall off his stool elicited a small smirk. The next few words out of Nero's mouth, though, dashed most if not all of Osric's hopes to the ground. He shook his head and sighed.
"Ruin you, eh?"
He paused. It was a small pause, just long enough to take a short, quick sip of ale, just long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He coughed as he lowered his glass, made an effort to cover his face with the back of one gauntleted hand. He set his tumbler aside, then gripped the edge of the bar as he turned to face the smuggler once more.
"That's our problem, ain't it, yours and mine? You think I mean t'ruin you. Think I want you ruined, you and your plans." He scoffed. "Think it through. You ain't some wool-headed gadabout, nor some liver-bellied scrag what can't face the truth."Â
His voice dropped a register, fell from a boisterous volume to a whisper, and if sheer will had been as much a force to be reckoned with as aether, he'd have pinned Nero to the man's seat with his stare.
"Tell me something, Sebastian. Why am I here, alone, meeting with you, while my fellow servicemen board Maelstrom vessels and perish by the dozens when your own ships send theirs to the bottom of the Rhotano? Why am I committin' treason, lettin' you walk and leavin' you free, rather than calling in my men to clap you in irons, when a mere drop of my name and rank in the right place and the right time by you and yours could have me executed?"
He leaned forward and threw out his hands.
"Why would I be doin' any of this if what I wanted was to ruin you?"
Osric snorted as he pushed himself to his feet, turned to pick up his glass and threw back the rest of his drink. He glanced at Nero as he plucked the bottle and the spare tumbler off the countertop and walked over to the smuggler's table.
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
