"Oh, you Karrnathi's and yer' masterbatory deethweeshes," I said like a seventeen-year-old wench.  If the major bothered me, I sure as hell was not going to show it.  But that sickly arm twisted my stomach worse than goat's milk, that's for sure.  I had to say something else to show that I wasn't mortified of her.   "Um, have a seat?  Dun' mind if I do."  I discarded the manacles before Led and Zed departed, patting them on the shoulders and giving them a thumb's up.  They were scared for me, I could tell.  I was scared for them too.  They were idiots, and idiots get into all sorts of scrapes.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=53854.msg2491768#msg2491768">Quote from: The Great Triangle on 28-11-2009, 05:09:26</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Major Saithe looked with disgjust on the man she had specifically ordered up to be on the mission.  "This..."  She said with disgust, making sure her tone was as dark as if she were talking about a carrion beetle.  "Is our public relations man."  Saithe said, hoping she could express how much she hated everything about the war being over in three little words.  "Now, little man, Cannibal Garrick, is it?  We're going to have a nice article from you about how the Emerald Claw randomly attacked followers of the Path of Inspiration.  If you want, you can make the article just about the abusive practices of the path.  But under no circumstances are I or any of your companions to be mentioned by name."  Saithe said, pointing towards Garret's neck with her undead hand.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>"Lady, ya give me great insoolt!" I cried, slamming my fist against something rather dramatically.  I missed, so I tried it one more time, this time with calculation.   "What sorta' business y'think I'm in?  De' putting people t'sleep business?  Nah'.  I'm in de' selling papers business!  An' a pack o' jacks who're cold as ice ain' going t'move me papers off de' shelves.  So it seems y'and I hayve sumthin' of an accord."<br/><br/>I found myself a chair and sat down, listening to the rest of the hubbub.  It stroked my shaft with a rusty iron pipe to hear the major demand that I lie to my public, but I wanted the story so badly.  I wanted the story, and if all it took was for me to sit on it for a while, then, I would simply have to.  Sometimes you just got to be patient.  Fiddlewinks told me that.  I glanced around and took in the people.  Since I am who I am, and they are not me, I instantly disliked them.  All of them.  From the furnace to the monkey.  But that was probably because I should have been feeling stressed out for being the kicker in the rugby team.  Here they are, a bunch of galoots, twirling magic strands and brandishing heavy weapons, and what do I bring to the party?  A bloody dagger.  I knew that they were looking at me, wondering how exactly I stacked up.  But that's the thing.  Just when you're looking up, I'm coming down, toppling over.  I've got moxy.  I've got drive.<em>Personality.</em><br/><br/>It was fight or flight time, and I sure as hell wasn't going off to grow a pair of wings.  Not now or ever.  Unless of course when I did.  But right then, I was totally madding on that stupid dwarf, his stupid elemental cart, and dust clouds.  And on top of all of them, fuck this Major Saithe with a broom.  My time in the Rekkenmark was going to suck.