[h2]Tyaethe Radistirin[/h2]

"Oh, they must be getting more subtle. There's always a few who think that they should have more say in how the order is run and recruits," Tyaethe said, absent-mindedly downing the glass as she looked around and grabbing another one. It wasn't as if the alcohol had much of an effect on her; being immune to poison tended to do that. Perhaps if she put her mind to it such an immunity could be suppressed... not that this seemed like a terribly good idea. She had seen other people with no tolerance drink like she tended to and it wasn't a fun experience.

Well, for them. For her it was generally hilarious.

The three girls coming in seemed to be angling for something far more than a mere chat, from the object of their focus--Gerard did seem to clean up reasonably well, after all. Just a bit down the table she could hear one of the slimy noble lot harassing the captain. It was as good an opportunity as any for her to slip away from the poor unfortunate soul... especially as Elionne had come up. If that basatard said anything...

"Oh, yes. We fought Jeremiah. All very heroic and that, I mostly watched to make sure nobody else got killed," she added, attention off the conversation--and then slipping away to hover behind the noble. Gerard would live. Probably. He'd be mad at the abandonment to the wiles of three young ladies, but she could cope with such frustration.

"Now, milord, what would you know of the measure of a Saint? Have you ever met one?"

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