Thread Closed
There was an uncomfortable pause after Two-Patch's words that caused Oryn's face to turn an embarrassing color of crimson. He could feel his heart screaming to get out of his chest as it rapidly sent adrenaline through his veins. He began picking up his books into a neat stack to mask any trembling. It wasn't that he was a coward; Limsa-Lominsa's streets were full of tough old salts, and half seemed to be shipmates of Oryn's sister. He was used to that enough. But Two-Patch did not seem like your average sea-trash to wash ashore, get stinking drunk, and make inappropriate passes at the more gentile local-women. Not to mention that he was big. And loud. And Oryn doubted very much that the merchant would ever need his services in a court of law. The bugger is more likely to defend himself, and sell half the jury trinkets and baubles while he's at it, he thought to himself.
"No-now see here, Mister Jack," the Hyur said, willing his voice to sound confident. "I'm afraid you've caught me flagrante delicto of attempting to enjoy a nice glass of port with this book which, hmm let me see, yes it does indeed happen to be the twelfth edition--good man for knowing it--and while I'm certain your weapons would be the excruciatingly best at ha ha cutting through red tape, I really must decline as I prefer the quill to do my fighting for me. I happen to be writing something of a treatise on local life, Thal willing. And if you like, Mister Jack, if you like, I shall personally pen an inscription to you, good man, on the frontispiece of a copy, once the text is completed, bound, and back from the printers. But for now, I beg you the graces of the Twelve celestials and ask to be left to enjoy my lunch in the aetherial bliss of solitude."
Oryn gave his best smile, which inevitably ended up as a wry grin somehow (no matter how many times he practiced in a mirror trying to give beaming lawyer-ly smiles instead), and keeping his face fixed at Two-Patch, glanced around the room from the corner of his eyes looking for potential allies and escape routes.
"No-now see here, Mister Jack," the Hyur said, willing his voice to sound confident. "I'm afraid you've caught me flagrante delicto of attempting to enjoy a nice glass of port with this book which, hmm let me see, yes it does indeed happen to be the twelfth edition--good man for knowing it--and while I'm certain your weapons would be the excruciatingly best at ha ha cutting through red tape, I really must decline as I prefer the quill to do my fighting for me. I happen to be writing something of a treatise on local life, Thal willing. And if you like, Mister Jack, if you like, I shall personally pen an inscription to you, good man, on the frontispiece of a copy, once the text is completed, bound, and back from the printers. But for now, I beg you the graces of the Twelve celestials and ask to be left to enjoy my lunch in the aetherial bliss of solitude."
Oryn gave his best smile, which inevitably ended up as a wry grin somehow (no matter how many times he practiced in a mirror trying to give beaming lawyer-ly smiles instead), and keeping his face fixed at Two-Patch, glanced around the room from the corner of his eyes looking for potential allies and escape routes.
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