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“Of course.” Faust said, dipping his head understandingly. He would not advocate the Dark Knight’s aim to infiltrate the Imperial Palace, but neither would he attempt to dissuade him from that course either. The Prince of Har’oloth harbored no respect for the Imperial Government, not its leaders, not its military, not anyone. Given all that the puppet government had done, or rather, their lack thereof, the last thing on the dark elf’s mind was their comfort. He was, however, concerned for Fidelis’s safety. “But do keep in mind that there are ways to infiltrate the palace that do not involve breaking down the front gates…” He advised with a grin.
“But it’s interesting that you say that.” Faust said, laughing as he slouched in his seat. Swiping up his goblet with his thumb and index finger, the Vysstichi Prince smirked as he downed another mouthful of wine. It was difficult to imagine his companion with a woman, not that the possibility was repulsive, but rather, Fidelis just didn’t seem that type –not anymore at least. For the most part, the Dark Knight was a lone wolf, one who would prefer the touch of ardentium steel to a woman’s warm flesh any day. It wasn’t incredibly unusual, but it did paint the Wolf of Jorel in an interesting light. And perhaps he was more powerful because of it.
“Is she still around?” the dark elf asked, his silver brows arching peculiarly before he answered Fidelis’s question, “I’m somewhat embarrassed to say this, but I love a married woman…well…used to love I guess. She chose another instead of me, some washed up admiral with a twig for a spine and a leaf for a backbone.” Rolling his eyes disgustedly, the dark elf’s expression darkened for the first time this night. “Sometimes I wonder if I should just kill him…” the Vysstichi laughed now, obviously joking –or was he?
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