Shamad glances around the pub. He looks Mr. Moedar Fancy Pants Maddin up and down with his lone red eye. "Probably. We shall see." He winces inside at the high pitched and rather girly sound of his voice. It really doesn't contrast well with the image he tries to project what with his black eye patch, black robes, black gloves, and just general all black appearance.
"While we wait for what other might grace us with their presences, tell me everything I need to know to get yer stuff back."
He pulls out a chair, whistles for the barmaid, and gets comfy.
"While we wait for what other might grace us with their presences, tell me everything I need to know to get yer stuff back."
He pulls out a chair, whistles for the barmaid, and gets comfy.
