A death that never seems to come, regardless of how oft you are to promise it. One might think you do not keep your word, Dotharl.
[Magnai looks down his nose at her, never moving off his throne as he watches her inspect his throne room.]
What business do you bring, Khatun? Surely you are not here merely to speaks words with no more weight to them than hot air... however unsurprising that reality would be.
Death comes no matter how you may bleat and cry in your stone cradle, stripling. Worry not.
[ All said in a tone as if they're just discussing the weather, nbd. Continuing her slow circuit of Magnai's "throne room" with a leisurely pace, she pauses in front of one of his Buduga cronies and bares her teeth in a distinctly unfriendly smile. ]
Business unrelated to you, Oronir brat. Be silent.
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valoirs
no subject
[Magnai looks down his nose at her, never moving off his throne as he watches her inspect his throne room.]
What business do you bring, Khatun? Surely you are not here merely to speaks words with no more weight to them than hot air... however unsurprising that reality would be.
no subject
[ All said in a tone as if they're just discussing the weather, nbd.
Continuing her slow circuit of Magnai's "throne room" with a leisurely pace, she pauses in front of one of his Buduga cronies and bares her teeth in a distinctly unfriendly smile. ]
Business unrelated to you, Oronir brat. Be silent.