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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Guilt Puppy" data-source="post: 630469" data-attributes="member: 6521">As Faileas heads out the door, the traveler stays in his seat, taking on last sip of water, carefully holding his face-cloth over the glass. A moment later he is up and out the door at terrific speed, readying his staff on the way.As he sees the two stare each other down, he plants his blade on the ground, unthreatening. He stands balanced, weight on both feet, statuesque -- Pose as little distraction as possible, to be fair. Resist the urge to display your own abilities -- you are not a rooster.When the brief dual reaches its conclusion, and the stranger relents, he follows Faileas back inside, paying a slow nod of respect to the victor. He goes immediately to his seat, inspects the water for any change, and then returns to surveying the room and trying -- fruitlessly -- to remain inconspicuous.He whispers to Faileas: "The drink poisons your skill. You should not drink. Always, you should keep your skill." His tone is conciliatory, and he tries to avoid sounding like he is talking down to his ally -- he knows how much he hates that. But there is a reason for every failure, and a warrior must be free from burdens: It would be a waste if he did not learn that.</blockquote>