The webbed hand gained a look with a touch of interest, and not generally the good kind. Wyren smiled despite this and gave a gracious bow of the head. "And you would be the frog-man I've heard about? I am sorry if that is offensive, I know not yet the proper term. Nor knew I your name before now, Borpal. Which is not to belittle your efforts, the stories merely refer to you as I have named you. I hope you will grant me that your race is an uncommon sight and not think less of me for my... hell, I can't talk like this. Just don't be hurt because I don't know the proper term for frog-man. So much damn politicking goes on in this place." He spit on the floor, ignoring all propriety. "And it's Wyren, mister Alsatt is real dead and as I have no missus I have not taken up the title."<br/><br/>The flying carpet got an askance look, but more because of the man's distaste for sorcery than any affront to the Grippli himself. It wasn't as though he was asking if he was too good for the floor. Some people never set foot on the ground. He seemed to recall that Janna floated, as did some others. The carpet was what drew his attention. How, with a frog-man atop it, did it not grow slimy? Did he clean the thing? Ignoble as the thoughts were, these were the idle considerations of Wyren. Yet another reason he spoke little. Words only seemed to upset people. Let the other people talk and let him shoot things, as far as he was concerned that was how it should go.