(Untitled)

[le_desirous]

Sagramore enters the main room with just a hint of unsteadiness, and finds a good spot by the messageboard where people usually tack up notes and such. Thereunder he stands, and with great dignity and aplomb announces, "We have a solemn quest. A quest which God Himself could not dispute nor all His Angels turn asunder. It is a quest for which

Comments

[floweredknight]

That was, let's say, not the finale Florence was expecting. He is subject to a sudden fit of coughing.

[le_desirous]

Sagramore bursts out laughing. "Good boy, jo. Don't hurt yourself. You in the market for a quest?"

[floweredknight]

Gack, wheeze! "No, sir."

[le_desirous]

"We could use a fine strapping lad like yourself. You'll garner the general attention better than we two old men, as pretty a face as you have."

[floweredknight]

Well, if you were looking for a cute blush, Sagramore, you've got it. The expression is not quite as endearing. "Nay, sir."

[le_desirous]

He lifts his hands as if to ward off trouble. "Well, you're young, you can be forgiven. In addition to which I suppose you already have my bitch to contend with."

[floweredknight]

Florence would like to die now, please. Preferably quickly. Spontaneous combustion would do nicely. "Sir."

[le_desirous]

Amused, "Unquestionably she's fond of you, and she has your token. No matter, then. Your uncle having forsaken my company, your aunt having spurned me, and your grandmother growing distinctly bored with me, I'm left to my own devices. Sir Dinadan swears there must be a whore here somewhere."

[floweredknight]

Thank you for the TMI, Sagramore.

Florence starts to say something, concludes that anything he could possibly say at this point would only be trouble, settles for "Sir," and makes for the door.

[le_desirous]

"Jesu preserve you, boy," Sagramore calls after him, laughing.