Creative Practice Day 29

"Ahh. I see you were invited here too, Jazerean." Archbishop Hesem stated dryly.

"Of all the pleasures our Lady of Dusk could have granted me this night, seeing you is the most demonstrable" The elven high priest bowed low to the bishop of Bahamut.

"I cannot fathom whether or not you actually know how to use that word. At any rate the only blessing I will receive is being relieved of your presence when this event has concluded."

"As ever your kind words are music to my soul, oh ancient of the order of the Platinum Dragon."

"Mind who you call ancient, elf. I'm younger than you by a good 200 years and I look better too. You look like one of those insects that gets trapped in amber for eons."

They were escorted into the grand meeting room in which the ceremony was to take place. Hesem rolled her eyes, "Of all the dignitaries I could be seated next to it just had to be you. I think they do this on purpose."

"Well of course they do! They know how much we love and appreciate each other after... decades... of working together." Jazerean's eyes comically were distant and dreamy with exaggerated sorrow.

"The day you say what you mean Jazerean I think you'll catch fire. I hope I am around to see it."

"And the day you learn to soften the words of your cold heart, my immortal lifespan will have long withered away into dust."

"Perhaps you are right. Make room for that woman sliding past you, you oaf." She gave a hefty shove to the elf to get out of the way for a craftswoman of Gond trying to shuffle by in the tight amphitheater.

"Ah, pardon me. Ooh, now there's an idea Lady Hesem. Perhaps you could style yourself after the dwarven women and let your beard grow out."

"Excuse me! Human women do not grow beards. For the most part. And I do not, thank you very much." Hesem stomped on Jezereans foot somewhat savagely at his remark.