Aazwen straightens both himself and his outfit. Doesn't do much good, what with all the loose threads and tears, but he seems slightly more presentable than he did a moment before.
"I would be most enamored of an opportunity to dance the waltz of adventure with those of such magnificent stature." He bows deeply with a flourish that looks far too suspiciously like that of a practiced courtier--well, one without an actual hat to sweep with. His voice was smooth and cultured, in a tone that bespeaks privilege and refinement.
His gecko though, momentarily losing grip on all but one strand of hair dangles loosely for a moment, from the looks of it, by one toe, at the deepest part of the elf's bow. Fortunately, it swings upward with his host's momentum and reseats itself snugly dead center upon the elf's head. Aazwen makes a mime-like motion as he replaces his phantom feathered (well, it's probably feathered) hat upon his head. The gecko doesn't seem to notice it's just been covered.
"One Robert Dez. Barrister. Number Seventy-Six Shore Lane." Hmm...this voice and manner seems to have stuck.
He raises an eyebrow at Valan and in turn, Kermis, Garrit and everyone else nearby. The gesture says to you, "Well? Are you ready?"