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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Creamsteak" data-source="post: 693125" data-attributes="member: 552">The Impressario tries to take a moment to take in the general attitude of your group, scanning, thouroughly, for anything strange. He thinks a bit, then dashes out of the room very briefly, to go fetch something.Jayle sits down on an ivory sofa on the southern side of the lounge, somehow she manages to retain her comfort even in the armor she bears. She turns to Krindor and Brawn primarily, and speaks a bit of her mind, "You, lizard-man, are quite interesting. What tribe are you from? One of the slaved ones, one of the shamanic ones, one of the druidic ones, one of the civilized ones, one of those that comes from the Trollforge? I'm familiar with much of your culture, I'm quite well read. And as for you, lady Krindor, why did you become a Knight?"Jayle then glances at the door, and notices something that some of you have been aware of for some time. The guard on the door-post has been edging in, and listening in on the conversation. Jayle remarks, in a whisper, to Krindor (who is nearest), "That's Guildenstern, he's disgusting, and quite perverted. If you come round him, try and avoid any length conversation. He's one of those types that tries to mix love potions in your food and such."She then returns to the main conversation, and asks Brawn, "May I see that sword of yours, I like it."Regis sits down on a wooden stool, very low, and sips his brew, after pooring a small leather container of blue powder into it. He stirs it in, then looks over everyone, "How long you wanna bet that the Impressario will be gone for? I'm considering going to use the sink while we are waiting."</blockquote>

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