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Nogrod · 01-14-2011, 05:29 PM

Lord Athanar was about to give Faramund a full response... using the phrase of a "beardless boy" for starters. But he knew better. It was close, as always with him. Darn my temper... he thought to himself studying the flouting youngster in front of him.

But like so many times before, he was able to collect himself and come back to the down to earth, no-nonsense way that was so peculiar to him. He was not a man of sweet talking or round-about queries - like the people in the Mead Hall had already learned.

"I do not find it one of your privileges to smirk at your eorl... or play him for a fool. Or to insult the lady or the people of the Mead Hall, as I heard you have done." He said slowly. "I'm ready to forget that for the time being, if you change your manner right now... That said, and as a token of it, I do apologise spilling your excellent mead. It's a pity to waste good stuff..." He stared intensively to Faramund while stressing the last sentence.

Lord Athanar leaned back a bit more relaxed now. Faramund looked like he was reaching for words to say something but lord Athanar raised his hand to let him understand he hadn't finished.

"Now, you didn't actually answer my question I'm entitled to be answered, whether you like me asking - or my way of asking - it. So tell me now, where does all this wealth come from? I've seen your holdings and they don't produce this, or this worth of anything you could trade in. So how do you get all this?" Athanar turned to pick the goblet from the table, but suddenly turned back to Faramund.

"How do the farmers fare around these corners? It didn't look like they were that well off to just reward their beloved lord out of respect and thankfullnesswith all this?"

He took a sip from the goblet and laid it back on the table.

01-14-2011, 05:29 PM	#890
Nogrod Flame of the Ainulindalë Join Date: Jan 2006 Location: Wearing rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field behaving as the wind behaves Posts: 9,308	At Faramund's hall Lord Athanar was about to give Faramund a full response... using the phrase of a "beardless boy" for starters. But he knew better. It was close, as always with him. Darn my temper... he thought to himself studying the flouting youngster in front of him. But like so many times before, he was able to collect himself and come back to the down to earth, no-nonsense way that was so peculiar to him. He was not a man of sweet talking or round-about queries - like the people in the Mead Hall had already learned. "I do not find it one of your privileges to smirk at your eorl... or play him for a fool. Or to insult the lady or the people of the Mead Hall, as I heard you have done." He said slowly. "I'm ready to forget that for the time being, if you change your manner right now... That said, and as a token of it, I do apologise spilling your excellent mead. It's a pity to waste good stuff..." He stared intensively to Faramund while stressing the last sentence. Lord Athanar leaned back a bit more relaxed now. Faramund looked like he was reaching for words to say something but lord Athanar raised his hand to let him understand he hadn't finished. "Now, you didn't actually answer my question I'm entitled to be answered, whether you like me asking - or my way of asking - it. So tell me now, where does all this wealth come from? I've seen your holdings and they don't produce this, or this worth of anything you could trade in. So how do you get all this?" Athanar turned to pick the goblet from the table, but suddenly turned back to Faramund. "How do the farmers fare around these corners? It didn't look like they were that well off to just reward their beloved lord out of respect and thankfullnesswith all this?" He took a sip from the goblet and laid it back on the table.