(Please kill me for how long it took me to reply to this thread. I'm just a total loser and can't keep track of my threads for shit. ;-;)
Covah seemed interested in everything the mage had said, though he stared confusedly as if he didn't understand it all. Likely because he didn't, though it took Alistair longer than expected to realize that in fact, the tall man did not speak Common. Doh. Few of them did.
Cooooovaaaah, he went off, repeating his name and gesturing to himself. Karem, he said precedingly, apparently understanding Alistair's mention of the Immortal. Names didn't change across languages, he supposed, and certainly not Immortal names. Covaaaahhh, he could only repeat in his head. That name was hardcore regardless of what tongue spoke it.
"Cooooooooovaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah," Alistair replied, grinning madly. "COOOOOOOVAAAAAAH," he said again, laughing outrageously at this point, his cheeks flushed. Finally, he gestured towards himself. "Alistair," the mage stated, nodding once. "Alistair of House Venora, Lord of the Northern Realms, Heir of the Great Dynasty of Beauty, Art and Love... He Who Shalt Not Betray, He Who Bears Nora's Legacy... yada yada," he went on, intentionally attempting to confuse the man who clearly did not speak Alistair's 'insidious foreign tongue'.
Shortly after, an incredible smell passed through his nose. It was Fridgar - his sweat, his breath, his presence. The man was just... impossible to miss.
"My loooove," he stated, turning to the larger Lotharro and kissing him on the cheek.
"This is Covah. He's nice. I don't know how I know that he's nice, but he is. I can tell from his expressions, his face. We need to befriend this creature," he stated, before glancing back at the other man.
"I some Haltunga speak," the mage said in a broken and clattered tongue. "This Fridgar," he pointed to his mate. "Nice meet you, Covah, Taranis. Drink much. Can't..." he paused, realizing he didn't know how to finish his sentence. "Um... maybe we should just give him a hug or something. That's a nice enough gesture, and doesn't involve knowing more Haltunga than I actually do," the mage frowned slightly, not long before his eyes caught Taranis' and he engaged in a staring competition that would compel bardic ballads throughout the ages.
Covah seemed interested in everything the mage had said, though he stared confusedly as if he didn't understand it all. Likely because he didn't, though it took Alistair longer than expected to realize that in fact, the tall man did not speak Common. Doh. Few of them did.
Cooooovaaaah, he went off, repeating his name and gesturing to himself. Karem, he said precedingly, apparently understanding Alistair's mention of the Immortal. Names didn't change across languages, he supposed, and certainly not Immortal names. Covaaaahhh, he could only repeat in his head. That name was hardcore regardless of what tongue spoke it.
"Cooooooooovaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah," Alistair replied, grinning madly. "COOOOOOOVAAAAAAH," he said again, laughing outrageously at this point, his cheeks flushed. Finally, he gestured towards himself. "Alistair," the mage stated, nodding once. "Alistair of House Venora, Lord of the Northern Realms, Heir of the Great Dynasty of Beauty, Art and Love... He Who Shalt Not Betray, He Who Bears Nora's Legacy... yada yada," he went on, intentionally attempting to confuse the man who clearly did not speak Alistair's 'insidious foreign tongue'.
Shortly after, an incredible smell passed through his nose. It was Fridgar - his sweat, his breath, his presence. The man was just... impossible to miss.
"My loooove," he stated, turning to the larger Lotharro and kissing him on the cheek.
"This is Covah. He's nice. I don't know how I know that he's nice, but he is. I can tell from his expressions, his face. We need to befriend this creature," he stated, before glancing back at the other man.
"I some Haltunga speak," the mage said in a broken and clattered tongue. "This Fridgar," he pointed to his mate. "Nice meet you, Covah, Taranis. Drink much. Can't..." he paused, realizing he didn't know how to finish his sentence. "Um... maybe we should just give him a hug or something. That's a nice enough gesture, and doesn't involve knowing more Haltunga than I actually do," the mage frowned slightly, not long before his eyes caught Taranis' and he engaged in a staring competition that would compel bardic ballads throughout the ages.