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Zeebo chuckles, then wheezes out an answer; ”I’m like a cheese maturing lass, I’m still learning! Do we ever stop being apprentices in life eh? Or cheeses? We get older… a little more stinky… and yet more valuable! Aprenticheeses! Hah!” He then slowly affixes his gaze back towards Mos and very slowly slurps at his soup.
"Biscuits be crumbed! Quite the entrance! No we've not all signed... this halfling hasn't yet..." With that Zeebo reaches for the letter and pauses momentarily before signing. He then passes it to Eireachdail; "Late but still have time for cheese! Fill your boots!"
At the mention of more cheese, Zeebo looks up from his feast and wheezes his appreciation. He pauses, casting an eye toward Mos; "Excellent! Another halfling! Good to see you kinsman... I can heartily recommend the Stinky Abbott with that wine... a truly mouth watering combination!" The old wizard nods in agreement at Rannock's suggestion; "A mule! Indeed! We halflings have short legs you know!"
As the towering Half-Orc rises then sits, the seat next to him seems to move of its own volition... followed by wheezing shuffles until from behind the table steps a rotund halfling that wearing dark, hooded robes. His prodigious grey beard follows the contour of his rounded belly whilst hiding much of his face, leaving only a large bulbous nose sticking out from the sea of wild hair. The old halfling steadies himself, then bows before addressing Jenneleth in a high, creaky voice akin to a rocking chair or door needing oiled; "Greetings my dear. I am Zeebo Softfeather, an acquaintance of Master Geldzauberer... and despite appearances am not a gnome! Perish the thought I say! Gno, I am, merely a well-fed, well-read halfling of... mature, yes mature years... Like a cheese I have got better with age!" He begins a wheezing giggle at his own joke, then coughs to compose himself. Tapping his large nose he whispers; "I know a smidge of this, smidge of that and a pinch of magic... Now... did someone mention cheese?" Zeebo disappears from view then pops himself up onto the chair, small hands reaching for a truckle of cave-aged Stinky Abbott[1]...
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