[ A sigh, some fussing of papers and a crisp tap. Metzger caps his pen and snaps to his feet just quickly enough. ]
Horse.
[ Sharp through the silence, he calls round the entire bar’s attention, Irkallans and all. He’s not wearing captain red, but it hardly matters. He folds and tucks the topmost of his papers away into his pocket, rankling, still projecting outward with aim to carry across ancient tables. ]
For gods’ sake, at least have class enough to murder them to their faces.
no subject
Horse.
[ Sharp through the silence, he calls round the entire bar’s attention, Irkallans and all. He’s not wearing captain red, but it hardly matters. He folds and tucks the topmost of his papers away into his pocket, rankling, still projecting outward with aim to carry across ancient tables. ]
For gods’ sake, at least have class enough to murder them to their faces.