Berrod recoiled where he sat. "Paladin? I ain't a Paladin! It'll be a cold season in all the hells 'fore I join up t'be a Sultanshi-- ah  -- Sultansworn, or one o'them Freebies runnin' round."Â
Her next words caused him to recoil yet -again-, dragging the legs of the chair along the floor by an ilm. "What-- what're ya on about? I ain't come here ta get into yer knickers! I don't know y'got --" Oh, but he got his neck wrung, didn't he? Berrod clammed up and squinted across at Crofte.Â
"Say -- uh. I was trynna avoid it, but I figure it'd prolly be better ta ask now. Did Warren get his neck wrung here?" His question came before a sidelong look at Franz; he too was curious as to how drunk Crofte was.
Her next words caused him to recoil yet -again-, dragging the legs of the chair along the floor by an ilm. "What-- what're ya on about? I ain't come here ta get into yer knickers! I don't know y'got --" Oh, but he got his neck wrung, didn't he? Berrod clammed up and squinted across at Crofte.Â
"Say -- uh. I was trynna avoid it, but I figure it'd prolly be better ta ask now. Did Warren get his neck wrung here?" His question came before a sidelong look at Franz; he too was curious as to how drunk Crofte was.
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