Dusty [2 Hivvem 4261]
At Across Saga, with Dustweed, sharing turnip pastries and spiced wine, and having trouble Orrenogling because we were somewhat behind a bookshelf. I could hear fairly adequately though. We got talked about a lot.
The Nice Conversations
Nobody actually said this, and sometimes one or the other was a Cani and once even a Gormoror, but I heard half a dozen conversations that went more or less like this:
A Rassimel I usually like:"Who's that with Sythyry?"
The Orren she is probably sleeping with:"Both-female. Baron of something. I forget her name."
Orren:"Why would Heartshell let someone like that in here?"
Rassimel:"Licking noble undertails, I guess."
Orren:"Well, it's stupid of her. Suppose we get raided tonight? Guards'll triple the blackmail."
Rassimel:"Yeah, while she gets away for free 'cuz, like, what guard's gonna shake down a baron?"
Orren:"Besides, what's she doing here anyways?"
Rassimel:"Well, no Herethroy would have her."
(It is one of Dustweed's little perversion that zie prefers to be considered a co-lover -- a perversion of which my fellow perverts were unaware, or, perhaps, deliberately ignoring.)
Orren:"She might be able to get a Khtsoyis if she's lucky."
Rassimel:"Or a wherriwheffle. They'll do anybody."
Orren:"Yeah. She should go to a monster-lover bar."
Rassimel:"Is there a monster-lover bar?"
Orren:"Damned if I know. Not in the city."
Rassimel:"Well, I hope she goes there soon then."
The Less Nice Conversations
When one of the conversants was a Herethroy, the conversation wasn't nearly so kind. I won't transcribe those ... I won't even reconstruct them. The suggestions about how to deal with the situation from Herethroy include:
- Have Dustweed and me forcefully evicted from the establishment.
- Let us stay if we pay for everything for everybody.
- Have Dustweed's abdominal chitin broken with a chair.
- Slip the blood of owl-dragons into Dustweed's beverage. (I believe that Herethroy are made particularly ill by this blood.)
- Take the mighty mystical weapons which I surely have (and don't! Not even a seven-winged burny thing!) and turn them fearsomely upon Dustweed.
- Have the chef urinate upon Dustweed's salad. Describe it as "House Special Salad Dressing"
- Dump a beer on Dustweed's head.
- Encourage Dustweed to finish eating and depart with some efficiency, but without threats or actual rancor.
Me:"Heavens, Dustweed. I'm very sorry ... I didn't think that a bunch of traffs would be like that."
Dustweed:"Oh, it wasn't too bad."
Me:apologize grovel grovel apologize
Dustweed:"Really -- most places are much worse. Nobody actually did anything, at least."
Zie meant it, too.