Knight's Errand (February 3010) - [OPEN]
Apr 22, 2018 9:08:19 GMT -5
Post by Durion on Apr 22, 2018 9:08:19 GMT -5
There was something sweet to taste about the way the glazier began to squirm. Durion felt a small snort of laughter pooling in his chest, though was careful not to let it loose. Instead, he kept his eyes even and steady, taking great care to make them boring and drilling, yet unassumingly so. It was an art perfected by him over the years of his adulthood, perhaps even into his teen years. There was a natural squirm from those considered the lesser of the city when they found themselves speaking to the ones of wealth, name, and clout.
Durion was, certainly, one of those people.
As it was, the glazier could hardly look at him, and Durion was amused. Perhaps Finlach was proving less of a good investment for information than the dark-clothed man had before thought, but there was certainly something…entertaining about his company. Perhaps because he was yet such a bumbling fool. A toy of a different sorts. Perhaps a pet, for the sake of amusement. At least this venture had not been entirely wasted.
"Oh no, I have no secrets. My life is hardly exciting enough to lend itself to such things."
“Nonsense, Master Finlach,” Durion chided dismissively with a flick of his hand to accent his blithe tone. “None in this city are free of vice or mask. Come. What is yours? I have bared to you mine. There must be something you know that none others do.” He paused, dark eyes scanning the redhead’s face once more, considering.
His thoughts turned back toward the topic of conversation earlier, where the glazier had been reluctant to speak on the matters of whether or not he had a woman. It seemed obvious to Durion he would not have one. The man was near stuttering in his motions, unsteady of eye. There was likely not a word of silk that could come from his lips, and such things were the base of wooing the ladies of this stone-city. They sought softness and gentleness amidst the harshness of the buildings—things flattery and golden compliments were fine for.
And yet, most masks and vices of this city were yet to do with them.
“Perhaps a woman you eye?” He offered, the tone a hum of what appeared to be friendly make. It was, at the very least going to prove an entertaining squirm.
Durion was, certainly, one of those people.
As it was, the glazier could hardly look at him, and Durion was amused. Perhaps Finlach was proving less of a good investment for information than the dark-clothed man had before thought, but there was certainly something…entertaining about his company. Perhaps because he was yet such a bumbling fool. A toy of a different sorts. Perhaps a pet, for the sake of amusement. At least this venture had not been entirely wasted.
"Oh no, I have no secrets. My life is hardly exciting enough to lend itself to such things."
“Nonsense, Master Finlach,” Durion chided dismissively with a flick of his hand to accent his blithe tone. “None in this city are free of vice or mask. Come. What is yours? I have bared to you mine. There must be something you know that none others do.” He paused, dark eyes scanning the redhead’s face once more, considering.
His thoughts turned back toward the topic of conversation earlier, where the glazier had been reluctant to speak on the matters of whether or not he had a woman. It seemed obvious to Durion he would not have one. The man was near stuttering in his motions, unsteady of eye. There was likely not a word of silk that could come from his lips, and such things were the base of wooing the ladies of this stone-city. They sought softness and gentleness amidst the harshness of the buildings—things flattery and golden compliments were fine for.
And yet, most masks and vices of this city were yet to do with them.
“Perhaps a woman you eye?” He offered, the tone a hum of what appeared to be friendly make. It was, at the very least going to prove an entertaining squirm.