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"Respect is fleeting and fickle, just as your patron's attentions."grunts Rizzickiel. With a long, noisy last slurp, he sets his stein down, stands up and marches out the door, and with one last rude hand gesture towards Zypher, exits. I must figure a way to make that pretty boy pay for his effrontery.
Rizzickiel, watching the events unfold and borrowing some manners from Faux slurps as noisily as he can from his majestic stein. When Zypher joins the group in such a glorious fashion, he nearly chokes on a mouthful of Three Devil Ale, spluttering and coughing. It was that easy?? All I had to do was pretend to trip and i could have groped them beauties... "How was it lad? Were they as glorious to touch as they are to look at?!"crows the dirty little gnome, "and as to joining you, as long as you're buying, despondent one."
"Hey girlie, if you lean over anymore, them love pilla's o' yrrs gonna fall right outta that jerkin. When they do, kindly turn them this direction, so I can get a proper viewin'." comes a raspy voice from the far corner of the room. A burned and scarred gnome sits off to himself, nursing a flagon nearly half as tall as he is.
The midden heap behind the stable begins to bulge and shift. Suddenly a burn scarred hand plunges forth into the clear warm air, followed slowly by a head covered in burn scars and patchy red hair. Filth falls off this short figure as a gnome in what should have been an impressive trench coat hops the rest of the way out of the pile of refuse and horse droppings.
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