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The name for what he evidently was meant nothing to him, but Ceolfric appreciated it all the same. It was much less of a mouthful than the grandiose speech he usually gave when asked - and presumably far less incriminating under the laws of this land. Not that it would apparently matter to the Bounty House, if they kept with the oh-so-enlightened Verazian sensibilities of their secretary. Ceolfric was ready to tune out the rest of the conversation when his attention was drawn toward the stairs by a sudden clapping. Some overconfident runt of a woman insulted her way across the room, only catching Ceolfric's eyes for long enough to size her up before he turned his gaze back to Aleka in disinterest. He couldn't say he disagreed with her dismissal of Cerric's flamboyancy, but the men of civilized lands must be soft indeed if a woman like that could get away with speaking so boldly in what Ceolfric could only assume was a regular occurance, judging by the elf's reaction.

Cerric's warning went in one ear and out the other; Freckles and Lilann seemed to have crossed her just by existing, and he'd looked upon far mightier warriors than a child-sized telekinetic without fear. If she intended to strangle him with his own clothes, he had no qualms about bludgeoning her to death in the nude, quite frankly. The elf's second statement was far more interesting. Lord Mystralath was the proprietor of the House, as far as Ceolfric was aware, which meant he was only man whose opinion mattered. A whole batch of Aetherborn at once would likely draw his eye, and none of the others had experience that sounded particularly useful to the profession. They'd serve to make the bandit look better, if nothing else.

Not the worst introduction he could hope for, all things considered. He only had to hope his lordship's temperament was more agreeable than the Lady Silventria. Or, gods forbid, she spoke the way she did because he was in a dalliance with the little gremlin.

But that was a matter for later, and the teenager daudling around Aleka's desk didn't interest him in the slightest. The two Tainted, however, did. For a couple of supposed demonspawn, they were a far cry from their progenitors - far too little malice in their tone when they discussed Aeowyn. The fearsome Ceolfric Demonkin felt no kinship with them at all; he'd parted someone's tongue from their mouth for lesser insults. Granted, the stakes in a spat between two Aetherborn were a bit higher than one between mere men. At least Lilann had a pair of metaphorical testicles, which he'd have assumed she took from Kyreth were he not far too tall to have been a eunuch. Nevertheless, Ceolfric hovered closer to where they were seated and loomed over them with a hand resting casually on his hip, pinky barely brushing [i]Goredrinker[/i]'s crossguard.

[color=AA4A44]"She seems a bit too self-important to waste her time on an entertainer of drunkards and a fence-mender anyway, Aetherborn or not."[/color] He glanced to Kyreth pointedly upon his mention of Aetherborn, trying to gauge whether he was truly ignorant or just a bad liar. [color=AA4A44]"I think you're in the clear, if you're not feeling particularly retributive."[/color]

[hr][@Mcmolly][@Obscene Symphony]