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<blockquote data-quote="Phoenix" data-source="post: 1339995" data-attributes="member: 16166">A roar of laughter leaves the lips of the crowd, followed by cheers for the noble heroes at Tarim's display.&nbsp; The man lying in the dirt is humbled and embarassed, his knife dipping towards the ground in shame at his 'performance'.Women watching from the windows of buildings nearby flutter white cloths at the valiant figure amongst the crowd, Tarim's natural charisma affecting many nearby.The lithe form of Khalas, one hand resting upon the man's shoulder causes him to look up in anger.&nbsp; Upon the kind words spoken to him, his face changes, not into a beacon of hope, his foolishness not allowing him to see that yet.&nbsp; But the anger dissapates as he sees the look in Khalas's eyes, and as the crowd cheers and follows you all into The Lady's Wait he shuffles in, last.Within a toast is raised to the brave heroes of Alspinar, though none offer to buy any of you a drink, superstition and tradition weighing heavily in the room.&nbsp; At the rear of the room you see a dusty man with an ale raised in hand (instead of a knife), joining in the toast.As the mugs fall, the man gingerly makes his way through the crowd, approaching the group.&nbsp; Standing before Tarim he spits in his hand and holds it before him, &quot;I am called Renath, and though I doubt that either one of us will be alive this time next year, I would rather be your friend than your High Priest.&quot;OOC: Tarim - Diplomacy DC24, Khalas - Diplomacy DC17.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Phoenix, post: 1339995, member: 16166"] A roar of laughter leaves the lips of the crowd, followed by cheers for the noble heroes at Tarim's display. The man lying in the dirt is humbled and embarassed, his knife dipping towards the ground in shame at his 'performance'. Women watching from the windows of buildings nearby flutter white cloths at the valiant figure amongst the crowd, Tarim's natural charisma affecting many nearby. The lithe form of Khalas, one hand resting upon the man's shoulder causes him to look up in anger. Upon the kind words spoken to him, his face changes, not into a beacon of hope, his foolishness not allowing him to see that yet. But the anger dissapates as he sees the look in Khalas's eyes, and as the crowd cheers and follows you all into The Lady's Wait he shuffles in, last. Within a toast is raised to the brave heroes of Alspinar, though none offer to buy any of you a drink, superstition and tradition weighing heavily in the room. At the rear of the room you see a dusty man with an ale raised in hand (instead of a knife), joining in the toast. As the mugs fall, the man gingerly makes his way through the crowd, approaching the group. Standing before Tarim he spits in his hand and holds it before him, "I am called Renath, and though I doubt that either one of us will be alive this time next year, I would rather be your friend than your High Priest." [I]OOC: Tarim - Diplomacy DC24, Khalas - Diplomacy DC17.[/I] [/QUOTE]

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