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?"
"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?"
