#interaction: inserviceto

[sayhwaet]

"Excuse me, sir," Harken clears his throat, his expression mostly neutral but with an undercurrent of displeasure. "I do not know what you hope to gain from plying my young lord with alcohol, but I would ask you to desist. Lord Eliwood has a good and kind soul, he is a man who would indulge those around him -- even if they do not have good intentions towards himself."

There was something about this man that spoke of...not an outright bad nature, but someone who was perhaps not afraid to take humor in someone else's foolishness -- by their own hand, or with a helping nudge from his own.

"If you do not cease, I will be forced to act on behalf of my lord's best interests."

He almost didn't notice the other man's approach. It wasn't that he was quiet - he was - or that his appearance was unremarkable - it was - but it was that there was something in his manner and bearing that Beowolf found...

Hm. He didn't quite like that. It wasn't so offensive to his senses as some men had been - strong moral backbone always ticked in the positives, but there was something else that at the moment, grated underneath Beowolf's skin.

"Eh?" He rubbed the tip of his pinky into his ear, as though he had not quite heard. "Plying? Nah, friend, I'm enjoyin' the party, same as - well, I guess you ain't enjoying the party, are you? Lookit you, stiff as a board - what are you even wearing? You look like it's a damn wake. Liven up, pal, maybe we should get a couple'a drinks in you, hey?"

A yawn, long and intentional but without the heft of any real fatigue, and Beowolf waves a hand, a dismissive gesture. "Guess you c'n lead a horse but can't make him drink, isn't that what they say? I don't know your Lord Elle of Wood or whatever, but if y'ask me - "

He lowered his voice and leaned forward. "I'm pretty sure I heard that some young lord has had more than two glasses of champers. Yeah. I heard it was some teacher - Nannies of Archanea? Queen or something, I don't have the head for all of these titles, so forgive me friend. But best of luck on your mission."

And with a jaunty wave over his shoulder, Beowolf turned and meandered back into the crowd for another drink, and another dance.

Weird fella.