"The immediate concern for the Nuhn is it's own well being; our intentions being purely noble a-"
"Shut up, you idiot. This isn't an argument you can win by your silver tongue alone."
Lord Fortomb looks to his servant in disgust. He motions his head towards the door; dismissing the defeated looking Balthamon. The Elezen rises, as he attempts to regain his composure, bows politely to Crofte, and saunters his way out of the room. He closes the door with practiced hand, leaving only a 'click' as the door shuts.Â
Lord Fortomb turns his attention back to Lady Crofte, scrutinizing her as any predator would. He approaches the desk, resting a large hand on it as a kickstand for his frame.
"Tell me Mrs. Crofte, what is it that you stand for as a Sultansworn?"
"Shut up, you idiot. This isn't an argument you can win by your silver tongue alone."
Lord Fortomb looks to his servant in disgust. He motions his head towards the door; dismissing the defeated looking Balthamon. The Elezen rises, as he attempts to regain his composure, bows politely to Crofte, and saunters his way out of the room. He closes the door with practiced hand, leaving only a 'click' as the door shuts.Â
Lord Fortomb turns his attention back to Lady Crofte, scrutinizing her as any predator would. He approaches the desk, resting a large hand on it as a kickstand for his frame.
"Tell me Mrs. Crofte, what is it that you stand for as a Sultansworn?"
