conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: KingOfLaughter: It's a normal evening for the city of Wersheerie, the citizens go about their business, he guards patrol and chat, and the ruling council looks down on the city, planning it's future. The night continues on it's usual path, and you meet up with your friends at your usual hangout, the old 'abandoned' mill. However you're not there for more than 15 minutes when a courier arrives, asking for each of you to follow him...
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: razorback: Stunden looks at the courier as he pulls his dagger out and digs a bit of dirt out from beneath his fingernail.  {'nother nobleman probably lost his heifer} he thinks to as himself.
  
   Who do you be working for? 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: SlyJohnny: Syria is a tall woman with frizzy blonde hair and bright green eyes, who has spent the last couple of minutes being animatedly chatty. Judging from the direction of her excited verbiage, and the fact she's shown up wearing a heavy greatsword, a tunic emblazoned with a silver lightning bolt clenched in a fist, and a polished suit of scale mail, she's completed her first test as a paladin. She doesn't seem to mind being interrupted, however.
  
   "Hello, good sir! Yes, who paid for the message? Are you sure they meant us? I don't think we're anybody in particular." 
  
  She silently notes the fact that her friend Stunden has innocuously produced a dagger. She suppresses a frown.   Now, now. Judge, but do not judge with prejudice. He's had a much harder life than I, and he's only being cautious.  
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: HerbieRAI: Tammik stands to the back of the room, visibly a little nervous.  This was their safe house, no one was supposed to know where they were.
  
   And how did you know where to find us? 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: razorback: If you have nothing to say, maybe it would be best if you were upon your way?   Stunden glowered for a moment at the man, catching Syria's disapproving look.  {acting before you think again, aren't you?  She's always warning me that this is how I get myself in trouble.}  He tried to soften his look a bit but he wasn't entirely sure if he was successful.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Evan Redmond: after realizing I have been preoccupied feeding Shadow, my hawk
  
  
   "I am afraid that my I have forgotten my manners, my name is Arawyr, and this is my hawk, Shadow, what is your name sir, and where do you mean to take us?" 
  
  
  I reach out to shake his hand
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: razorback: Either you be unmannered or you be testing our patience   Stunden growled, pointing his dagger at the man.  Looking at his friends, he feels his ears burn.  Flicking his dagger at a board in another direction from the man.  He walks over and pulls it out, frustration clearly evident on his face.
  
   Best to be on our way.  Lead on. 
  
  He looks at his companions, wondering if they were going to follow.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: razorback: Arawyr, it would seem these city folk have less manners than Shadow 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: razorback: Stunden stood, hands on hips.
   Maybe it be best if we took up craftwork? 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: razorback: Stunden then grabs his dagger and points it at the courier.
   Best be on your way  he said, red faced.
   I have better things to waste my time on 