Are
Her turn of both tone and demeanor should had been enough to clue him in to the fact that whatever line of thinking he'd gone down would not be considered further, lest he wanted to start even more trouble. Even though he probably knew better than to even considered it he couldn't fully close the door on the idea. Of course the hero would never go anywhere near such a horrific thought, of course she would see to it that it never came to that, that it could be won before. Still, the cobbler asked himself, what if it wasn't? Would the enemy stick to the high and honorable path like he knew Roana would? Just as the question pointed at his friend he knew the answer to the one aimed at himself before he ever had a chance to voice it.
Although he wasn't drunk enough to protest, not drunk enough to air his musings on war. War was better left to the warriors after all. That didn't stop Are from making several attempts at getting his train of thought to reignite and to muster enough fire to push his luck. A few 'uhm' and 'ah' later he resigned himself to silent disagreement, slumping down in his chair and crossing his arms like a child told to not chase the cat. A drunk child the size of a man and a half far too concerned with a lofty goal he didn't stop to think about the path there, and how he was advocating it be paved with victims if need be.
At last he picked up the pieces of his scuffed ego and got up. "I trust you to do what's right, and thus I follow. If you excuse me for a moment, I'm a bit parched after that scolding." he grumbled and went to have his empty tankard refilled, although more to get a short respite before returning and unceremoniously falling into his chair.
Although he wasn't drunk enough to protest, not drunk enough to air his musings on war. War was better left to the warriors after all. That didn't stop Are from making several attempts at getting his train of thought to reignite and to muster enough fire to push his luck. A few 'uhm' and 'ah' later he resigned himself to silent disagreement, slumping down in his chair and crossing his arms like a child told to not chase the cat. A drunk child the size of a man and a half far too concerned with a lofty goal he didn't stop to think about the path there, and how he was advocating it be paved with victims if need be.
At last he picked up the pieces of his scuffed ego and got up. "I trust you to do what's right, and thus I follow. If you excuse me for a moment, I'm a bit parched after that scolding." he grumbled and went to have his empty tankard refilled, although more to get a short respite before returning and unceremoniously falling into his chair.
