"If I may... Sir," The elf bowed, deeper and more sincere than previous. "House Vulkoori's roots are deep... waging war against--"
"You may not," Tycondrius interrupted, speaking quickly in a monotone voice. "I very much do *not* care. Thank you for your sincerity. Our business is concluded. Keep away from House Spider Crab for three suns. P l e a s e . l e a v e . "
The elf was taken aback, his or her face aghast.
Tycon's response was highly inappropriate, considering Elven social customs.
According to their reaction, speaking as such was worse than wanton murder.
"I... I hear you," The elf nodded. "Then... if there's nothing else."
Tycon waved them away. Regardless of that person's status, his was higher.
The way they shook as they left implied that they would take Tycon's words to heart.
Three suns was a gross lower estimate.
