And perhaps it's the statements themselves, or the way Benedict refuses to be still and listen— or perhaps Gabranth's patience was only ever a thin veneer poorly cast over an embittered heart, but as that fist beats itself against the hollowed metal of his breastplate, his voice takes on a near growl in the gaps between words. He does not let go.
"These nobles think it amusing, entertainment to be bought in blood and paid with coin."
There are enough experiened fighters present that Gabranth has faith they'll endure without misery, but nothing is a guarantee. Nothing. Somewhere lurking in the matter at hand is a sliver of a chance that this could be a final moment for any number of them should their plans go awry, and he will not see it cast aside in favor of foolish jokes or sweetened wine from nobility as thick as spun thread.
"Do you feel the same, knowing where you will soon stand?"
no subject
A dragon, Benedict.
And perhaps it's the statements themselves, or the way Benedict refuses to be still and listen— or perhaps Gabranth's patience was only ever a thin veneer poorly cast over an embittered heart, but as that fist beats itself against the hollowed metal of his breastplate, his voice takes on a near growl in the gaps between words. He does not let go.
"These nobles think it amusing, entertainment to be bought in blood and paid with coin."
There are enough experiened fighters present that Gabranth has faith they'll endure without misery, but nothing is a guarantee. Nothing. Somewhere lurking in the matter at hand is a sliver of a chance that this could be a final moment for any number of them should their plans go awry, and he will not see it cast aside in favor of foolish jokes or sweetened wine from nobility as thick as spun thread.
"Do you feel the same, knowing where you will soon stand?"