<div class="floatright"><div align="center">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/0a/44/73/0a447356828c3ab3ca0a98c48c7179a7.jpg)<br/>Sir Pelliton</div></div>"The roads are dangerous these days, my Lady," Pelliton replied, his voice shifting into a flat monotone, his demeanour suddenly cold and expressionless. "Especially when Orcs move so boldly in civilized lands. Messengers don't always–" he breathes in sharply through his teeth, "–survive..."<br/><br/>At Larissa's chiding, though, his initial giddy persona seemed to return, and he fell to giggling once again. "And some spit-shined armor doesn't make you a knight, Lady Ruxvan," he replies, his smile disconcertingly wide, displaying far too many teeth. "Lower<em>myself</em>?" he cackles gleefully. His eyes roam up and down Larissa's figure, and he runs his tongue along his lips. "You're very funny, Lady Ruxvan. See, I've heard that that Ruxvan women know<em>all about</em>lowering themselves. So while it's very quaint that you've taken this 'vengeance' upon yourself, you really shouldn't send a whore to do a man's job."<br/><br/>The tavern was dead silent as all eyes watched the two knights stare each other down. Kasala had risen to stand dutifully at her mistress's side, cold fury burning behind her eyes. Giselle had retreated back to her counter, where here hands were balled into white-knuckled fists.