Almost immediately the pair are surrounded by a strangely unified mix of Pelosian and local merchants, hovering expectantly, abuzz with murmurs of urgency. Their de facto leader is a bald, brawny fellow of Zammite stock, who's bare arms are stained with dye.
Zamaragdus
You. You smell terrible. I assume you are therefore honest and hardworking. You will be first. < waves vaguely at distant table, cutting off several attempts at interruption > Yes, yes. I know I am indispensable, but everyone go over there and give your petition to my lovely assistant.
Afzaneh
Lord Sagneth's lovely assistant, to be strictly accurate < smiling > If you sers and numare would care to proceed this way...
Afzaneh leads the company over to an empty table, followed as ever by her daemonic shadow (watched nervously by the Pelosians, although everyone has one eye towards events across the way). Zamaragdus leans back against the bar, slightly turning his head to speak to Wedlan; half watching Pio depart, half idly fiddling with Wedlan's papers that are piled on the bar.
Zamaragdus
Some of that terrible stimulent mud they drink in the archipelago, for the lady.
Anything equally dark and bitter, but cold and considerably more potent for me. If you please good ser.