“In a place like this, I think minor exceptions are a blessing,†She said as she sat, stretching a moment before settling and taking a large gulp of ale. “Forgive my forwardness, but I’ve found the average drunks pick fights with those drinking alone. My name is Lazulle.â€
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She took her next swig to take in the finer details of her new drinking companions. The Miqo’te was quiet, and if how she held that quill said anything she was nervous. Perhaps about this “communication issue†and hopefully not her presence. She managed to wear a scarf even in the heat of Ul’dah, though as one who casually wore armor she couldn’t say much on sensibility.
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The Duskwight had verbalized a greeting, and had been inviting to boot. He seemed keen on hiding as much of his face under the hat as he could, having some reason or another to keep a low profile. Or as much as one could with a large hat like that…
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Neither seemed the type to hold their own in a place like this. It must be a small miracle they hadn’t been targeted by someone much larger. Then again, with the man on the ground, perhaps there is more to them than more to them than meets the eye. Perhaps they could be of assistance, but she couldn’t be sure just yet.
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“Ah, nothing like a drink after a week of travel.†Turning as she thought she heard something faint, Lazulle gently moved her head to the side as a mug flew by and hit the wall. Rowdier than The Quicksand by far, but she somehow felt more comfortable where the good men of Ul’dah couldn’t look down on her.
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“What brought you two to a tavern such as this?†She asked, curiosity getting the better of her after the Miqo’te had finished with the quill. “And what are your names, if I may be so bold.â€
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She took her next swig to take in the finer details of her new drinking companions. The Miqo’te was quiet, and if how she held that quill said anything she was nervous. Perhaps about this “communication issue†and hopefully not her presence. She managed to wear a scarf even in the heat of Ul’dah, though as one who casually wore armor she couldn’t say much on sensibility.
Â
The Duskwight had verbalized a greeting, and had been inviting to boot. He seemed keen on hiding as much of his face under the hat as he could, having some reason or another to keep a low profile. Or as much as one could with a large hat like that…
Â
Neither seemed the type to hold their own in a place like this. It must be a small miracle they hadn’t been targeted by someone much larger. Then again, with the man on the ground, perhaps there is more to them than more to them than meets the eye. Perhaps they could be of assistance, but she couldn’t be sure just yet.
Â
“Ah, nothing like a drink after a week of travel.†Turning as she thought she heard something faint, Lazulle gently moved her head to the side as a mug flew by and hit the wall. Rowdier than The Quicksand by far, but she somehow felt more comfortable where the good men of Ul’dah couldn’t look down on her.
Â
“What brought you two to a tavern such as this?†She asked, curiosity getting the better of her after the Miqo’te had finished with the quill. “And what are your names, if I may be so bold.â€
