[ It's a simple pastry, a sponge cake with a small heart drawn on the top in icing, and the gnome hovers around with it in his hands like the world's most awkward little creature.
Eventually, after he registers the rebuff, he sighs: "it's from the two ladies at the other table." A gesture to indicate who he means, and the two young half-elves titter amongst themselves again, waving and mouthing 'congratulations!'
Iorveth's attention see-saws from the women to the gnome, and finally to the cake, which he absolutely shouldn't accept given how he almost died from ingesting strange offerings less than a day ago. But as far as assassinations go, this one really is far too obvious and far too spontaneously sweet to suspect. ]
Thank you, [ he says, reaching for the plate to provide the exhausted-looking gnome with some measure of relief. ] Congratulations are in order, I suppose.
[ Angling to kiss Astarion's cheek, one-upping the one-upping. The rudest elf in the world. ]
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Eventually, after he registers the rebuff, he sighs: "it's from the two ladies at the other table." A gesture to indicate who he means, and the two young half-elves titter amongst themselves again, waving and mouthing 'congratulations!'
Iorveth's attention see-saws from the women to the gnome, and finally to the cake, which he absolutely shouldn't accept given how he almost died from ingesting strange offerings less than a day ago. But as far as assassinations go, this one really is far too obvious and far too spontaneously sweet to suspect. ]
Thank you, [ he says, reaching for the plate to provide the exhausted-looking gnome with some measure of relief. ] Congratulations are in order, I suppose.
[ Angling to kiss Astarion's cheek, one-upping the one-upping. The rudest elf in the world. ]