[log] both your friend and your enemy think you will never die

[errantknights]

The crisp cold air in Arum gives way to the more temperate nexus, and Martel loosens his cloak as he walks further away from the portal - habitually, as if this is something that he does quite often, because it is. The nexus has become a routine the way he knows just about anything can become routine, and he uses it for recreation and for business

Comments

[queenschampion]

Sparhawk has one thought in mind. Find Martel. His head is still blurred by the Arcian red that he was drinking with an old friend, but that's the way that Sparhawk wants to be. It's the only way that certain things will finally get to be said.

His steps are steady and methodical as he traces his way through the paths of the nexus, looking for the man, asking if anyone has seen him.

Sparhawk isn't paying much attention to his surroundings, and so when he finds himself in a market, the similarity of it to his homeland is startling. It's then that he hears the familiar voice engaged in a disagreement.

Taking a deep breath, and with the taste of the Arcian red in his mouth, Sparhawk moves forward to the stall, and into Martel's eyeline.

[errantknights]

"Half of that, and that's a generous estimate. Excuse me." In perfectly sober contrast, Martel drops the thread of conversation smoothly and moves toward Sparhawk rather than bothering to walk away. Muzzy-headed as his brother may be, that was too deliberate for him to ignore - so he picks this argument up as easily as he dropped the other, raising his eyebrow. "Yes?"

[queenschampion]

In this frame of mind, Sparhawk doesn't care if Martel is sober, he doesn't care what Martel thinks of him. With the alcohol in his mind, and the words of Stragen repeating softly, Sparhawk is determined.

"I am sorry if I am interrupting you, but I need to speak with you. Privately, and as soon as possible."

The words are polite, although to someone as knowing as Martel, the slight slur would be detectable. Sparhawk also doesn't care if Martel think's he stating the obvious, the broken nosed knight has his side of the conversation mostly planned out already.

[errantknights]

Well. That's a good deal politer than what he was expecting - certainly a lot politer than he's merited in the past - and as such it makes him pause, mildly suspicious. The slur is what makes his mind up for him; even if Sparhawk is up to something, and this seems a little underhanded for his side of their grappling, he's dead certain he can knock him down if he's drunk.

He'd rather not have to, but the thought occurs to him and plays a part in the curt nod he gives. "Very well. Been drinking have we, brother?"