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Yangh · **09-10-2014, 05:11 PM**

P'azih chuckled, striding over confidently and taking a seat, not realising he'd chosen the seat in which the Hyur had lost his life. He bit back, just enough to NOT make a joke about losing or wringing his neck. He was certain the lady, while intoxicated, would cleanly snap him in half for such an infraction.

"Ah, Franz! How did I miss you? You're so huge!" he said as he got comfortable. "My thanks for the invitation. I'm P'azih. Tia, naturally." he said leaning over to sniff the bottle of cinnamon twanged liquor.

His face scrunched lightly, ears splaying a touch. "Gods... a drink like that? I'd certainly be snapped in two." he mused, more to himself sitting back down. He looked tot he female again, she didn't look great... he wasn't going to be the one to tell her. "And you are, Miss...?"

Coatleque · **09-10-2014, 05:35 PM**

She blinked twice while just looking at this Miqo'te, half expecting his head to simply twist itself off his body in some bizzare twist of fate. "CrÌƒofte. Ser CrÌƒofte, of her Reslplen... och, ne'er mind. Loat o' good Ah've been the past sevenday." She shot a glance to the bottle. "Aye, he liked em strÌƒon' ah think."

Her neck craned momentarily to the newcomer. "Maester FrÌƒanz. Ah dae suppose ye've come tae join us as well? An' Maester ArmstrÌƒong, Ah din'nae suppose Mistress Momodi knows yer stealin 'er bedding now?"

Berrod Armstrong · **09-10-2014, 05:47 PM**

"Berrod," he pressed desperately, "S'Berrod. An' I bought it off her!" He shook the poofy, down filled mass. "She's gettin' rid o'the old stuff and selling' it dirt cheap. Fancier than what I got now, least ways."

His business declared, he cast a look at the other three, quite expecting them to erupt into conversation relevant to nothing regarding him.

Coatleque · **09-10-2014, 05:52 PM**

"Och, fine! BerrÌƒoad then!"
She rolled her eyes and looked away with obvious disgust at being corrected yet again.

Yangh · **09-10-2014, 06:13 PM**

P'azih smiled right back at the aforementioned Ser Crofte, wondering what exactly she could be staring at him so intently about. He canted his head in returned, realising she was in full uniform.

He tugged on his ear lightly, pulling it down and letting its natural spring pop it from his fingers to stand on ends once more. "Huh... you're one of those Paladin, right?" he began as she corrected Berrod with a huff and pout.

"You know, technically, i'm one of your order... sort of." he smiled, not going any further in to the details. "So, Miss Crofte... uh... how are you, exactly?" he asked, removing the bottle from her view and placing it at his feet.

**Unnamed Mercenary** · **09-10-2014, 06:23 PM**

He smiled to P'azih, happy to be remembered. "And here I though Miqo'teÂ had good eyesight! ...I thought the red would at least make me stand out." As usual, he was clad in the redÂ tabbardÂ and vermillionÂ sollerets, his 'casual' city outfit that would still offer protection, with plenty of mobility.

"Yes, MissÂ Crofte, how are you? I haven't seen you sin the other sun, at the Coffer and Coffin." The slight twangs of the Garlean accentÂ hopefullyÂ being covered up with the Ishgardian one.Â CrofteÂ had never questioned him on it, and he hoped it'd stay that way.

Looking at the other Highlander, "Berrod, right? I think I've seen you at the Grindstone. How'd you lose this past week?"

Deflecting the conversation could also work. Maybe a series of disconnected conversations would getÂ CroftesÂ mind off of whatever caused her Â to drink.

Berrod Armstrong · **09-10-2014, 06:42 PM**

Berrod had been ready to retreat at Crofte's disgust (he didn't know what he'd done wrong, but clearly something had gone ill), when the other Highlander's words graced his ear. Lose? The immediate, violent urges were quelled only by present company.

Doing his best to mitigate the visible twitch of his brow, he turned his neck toward the Highlander and forced a creaky smile. "Yeah, Berrod..." He confirmed. Zero mention was made of his Grindstone loss. "I seen you about too, but I don't think I caught yer name. Though it looks like lil' P'azih over here knows ya..."

Yangh · **09-10-2014, 07:09 PM**

P'azih's keen hearing caught the slight tension in the air, though he immediately tuned in on the word 'Little' in reference to himself. He looked up at the large highlander, he wasn't wrong, he was little compared to... well... all present actually.

"I'll have you know... that i'm considered very large for a Miq---Hah! Who am I kidding... i'm the smallest at the table!" he mused.

He smiled brightly, looking between the two... then settled his gaze back on Lady Crofte. He just sort of... looked. Not actually saying anything, silently appraising.

Coatleque · **09-10-2014, 07:17 PM**

Coatleque waved her hand dismissively at P'azih. "Free Paladins are nae part o' th' Order. Her GrÌƒace thanks ye fer ye service o' course."

For good or ill she did not notice the bottle disappear. Her attention turned back to Franz's question. "An' Ah be fine! Ah've been thrÌƒough worse, fer shoar. Soon there'll be another crazed Garlean, or some murderer, or some as such tha'll thrÌƒeaten th' security o' her GrÌƒace again. Then Ah'll remember why Ah ne'er botherÌƒed with this trÌƒipe tae begin with!"

Yangh · **09-10-2014, 08:54 PM**

P'azih watched the woman wave a hand, following it like an animal would food dangled in front of their face. He laughed in amusement, wondering exactly how embarrassing this might be when he brings it up in her presence next.

"Uhm... I never said I was a Paladin... sworn or otherwise..." he snickered. "Call me an initiate... of sorts."

Berrod Armstrong · **09-11-2014, 09:08 AM**

Berrod was still quite sore from the other Highlander's mention of his Grindstone loss -- and visibly so. The exchange between Crofte and P'azih went right over his head for a few ticks as he indignantly clutched the bundled comforters. With a quiet snort, the need for decency won over. He had lost, after all, so perhaps the Highlander didn't mean ill. Â In that spirit, he sought to provide a word of polite conversation toward his kinsman.Â

"Y'talk funny."

Coatleque · **09-11-2014, 09:15 AM**

She snickered to herself.
"Anotha bloody recrÌƒuit. Adventurer? Or frÌƒesh out'a th' Blood Sands? Och, it makes nae differÌƒance, so long as ye know th' sharp end frÌƒom the handle."

Her hand absently raised her glass back to take another drink but nothing came out. Shrugging, she set it back down and blinked. "There seems tae be more 'an more o' ye since tha' last attack on th' city."

Turning back to Berrod, she shook her head. "Nae, ye just listen funny."

Berrod Armstrong · **09-11-2014, 09:47 AM**

Berrod's maturity declared its non-existence with the loud, rasping chortle he released.Â

"Hurr," He uttered eloquently, "Thassa good one -- I really can't place the accent though -- an' yers is different too! Though I like it, ya sound like a real gal."

His chest swelled as he looked to the other two to complement his approval. The perceived slight from the other Highlander male had at last been forgotten. As that vanished from his mind however, the prospect of a poor wrung-necked Warren surfaced. There was no way for him to bring the subject up without ruining the just-recovering mood, so once again he let his natural talent at public speech take the reins."

"...uh."

Yangh · **09-11-2014, 10:20 AM**

P'azih laughed at the conversation as a whole, he, for some reason, found this all very amusing.

"Without recruits... who would fill the ranks after your elite decide to call it day. Willing or non." he smiled.

He looked at them all separately and just grinned. "You -all- talk funny." he quipped, beaming that ever present grin.

**Unnamed Mercenary** · **09-11-2014, 11:36 AM**

The slight twitch on Berrod's face when he'd mentioned losing had piqued Franz's interest, but that would perhaps be something to poke around later. The man was clearly a child of Ala Mhigo, that much was certain. Directed at Berrod, he tried to answer the questions.

"Like I said, it was sad to see you lose. I was hoping you'd win. What of my speech?" He'd come to take pride in his ability to communicate. Any deficiencies of his Garlean education easily supplanted by Ishgardian knowledge. "All the people around Ishgard sound like this."

He though to himself. 'There. Play nicely with the colonies' people, now." Of course, he'd never say such a thing out loud. He might have been as large as Berrod, but there was no way in the hells Franz would beat him in a fist fight. That was was obvious.

Turning his attention back to seemingly drunk Sultansworn, who was speaking quite differently that usual. "If I might ask, where /are/ you from Miss Crofte?"

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Yet Another Night in the Quicksand (Open - New Night)

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes