8th of Bargenholt, 3817 AoT
2:15 PM
The Lord’s Arena

Ghedim returned Tarin's toast and took a polite sip from his glass.

"And to you, Inquisitor. I hear that you are to thank for the show today - impressive work, convincing a noble madman to confess."

Ghedim's eyes surveyed the entirety of the Inquisitor, and in the bright light they seemed to take on an almost reptilian quality. He knew of Tarin's reputation, but it seemed he was determined to judge the Inquisitor for himself.

"Why does it not surprise me that we have the Mechanists to thank for this distraction. If I desired an environment where I had to raise my voice for a polite conversation and contend with a constant wind, I would have scheduled a party on my yacht."

Ghedim leaned closer, allowing his voice to drop.

"Not that Milverton could afford a yacht."

Ghedim chuckled, flicking his attention to their host for a moment before returning it to Tarin.