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<blockquote data-quote="Rhialto" data-source="post: 2408869" data-attributes="member: 630"><p>The moment the words 'Trac Esroh' escape Weel's lips, Phandros immediately calms down, and places the mace back on the floor.&nbsp; &quot;Oh!&nbsp; Esroh sent you!&nbsp; Well, why didn't you say so!&nbsp; Why'd you say you were here on church business?&nbsp; You have no idea what a fright you gave me!&quot;&nbsp; He gives a hearty laugh.&nbsp; &quot;Thraunos be praised!&nbsp; Always time for my old friend Esroh!&quot;&nbsp; He glances at Weel for a moment searchingly.&nbsp; &quot;Let's see--you'd be that acolyte he took up--Welt?&nbsp; Woe?&nbsp; Wessenfras?&quot;&nbsp; The old man shrugs.&nbsp; &quot;Oh, well, I'm sure it will come to me.&nbsp; Come!&nbsp; Tell me how the old boy's doing!&nbsp; Has he kept his voice?&nbsp; They used to call him 'Angel's Throat' Esroh back in seminary.&quot;&nbsp; Phandros gives a familiar, nostalgic laugh, and then kneels before the statue of Thraunos.&nbsp; He rubs his hand over the base, causing it to open with a snap, revealing a hidden compartment with a bottle and two small glasses in it.&nbsp; Phandros begins to pour a reddish-brown liquid from the bottle.&nbsp; &quot;Come--share a cup with me.&nbsp; Fine Oskian brandy--aged to perfection.&nbsp; Those Sleurithians know their liquor, even if they're a lot of pretentious bastards who will get what's coming to them one of these days, mark my words.&quot;&nbsp; He chuckles, puts down his bottle and sips from his glass.&nbsp; &quot;So how are things in Archea to start with?&quot;</p></blockquote><p></p>

[QUOTE="Rhialto, post: 2408869, member: 630"] The moment the words 'Trac Esroh' escape Weel's lips, Phandros immediately calms down, and places the mace back on the floor. "Oh! Esroh sent you! Well, why didn't you say so! Why'd you say you were here on church business? You have no idea what a fright you gave me!" He gives a hearty laugh. "Thraunos be praised! Always time for my old friend Esroh!" He glances at Weel for a moment searchingly. "Let's see--you'd be that acolyte he took up--Welt? Woe? Wessenfras?" The old man shrugs. "Oh, well, I'm sure it will come to me. Come! Tell me how the old boy's doing! Has he kept his voice? They used to call him 'Angel's Throat' Esroh back in seminary." Phandros gives a familiar, nostalgic laugh, and then kneels before the statue of Thraunos. He rubs his hand over the base, causing it to open with a snap, revealing a hidden compartment with a bottle and two small glasses in it. Phandros begins to pour a reddish-brown liquid from the bottle. "Come--share a cup with me. Fine Oskian brandy--aged to perfection. Those Sleurithians know their liquor, even if they're a lot of pretentious bastards who will get what's coming to them one of these days, mark my words." He chuckles, puts down his bottle and sips from his glass. "So how are things in Archea to start with?" [/QUOTE]

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