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[inshiningarmor]

[ Mandorallen is dressed in plainclothes, but he's holding his broadsword in view of the camera, stepped back a bit so that most of his body is in frame. ]

The recent calamity that hath befallen this place was a mortally dangerous one, as we all are keenly aware. And methinks it will not be the last -- it doth go without saying that there is something decidedly strange about this place, and none of us could pretend to understand its ways or those of the strange people who reside here. But one thing hath become clear: this place, friendly and idyllic though it may often be, can pose great danger to us. And not all unfortunate souls here are well-equipped to defend themselves.

So, fellow foreigners, I have a proposition for thee. I am well skilled in the arts of war; any man or woman who doth wish to receive instruction so that they may better defend themselves, and live to serve or fight another day, should do so as to contact me. I can offer lessons in swordplay and, though it is not my forté, hand-to-hand fighting. These lessons will come free of charge to those who might seek to learn, for I am loathe to rob thee of money for something so important.

Comments

[audio]

[polyhistor]

[He really only has one thing to say to this.]

Doth?

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[inshiningarmor]

[ s i g h okay Mandorallen's getting used to this

Still, he doesn't look annoyed, he just raises his eyebrows. ]

Hath my speech caused offense in some way, friend?

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[polyhistor]

[Superheroes? Trans-dimensional teleportation? Dealing with people from different periods in time?

Absolutely none of that bothers Reid as much as the word 'doth' in this moment. Naturally, it's the result of cascading incredulity being built up with each new, scientifically improbable or inexplicable occurrence, but doth is truly the straw that broke this camel's back. Six days of sleep deprivation, panic, uncertainty and friends showing up with bullet holes will do that to a guy.]

No-- not offense. You're-- um.

[HRGH.]

I'm just curious as to why the audio-linguistic translators apparently ubiquitous in this place aren't updating your dialogue to the same level of modernity as everyone else's.

[It's not meant to sound condescending or frustrated

but it sort of does anyway. and it's absolutely not intentional, he's just. Doth. He can't.]

[inshiningarmor]

[ All...right... admittedly a few of those words whooshed gracefully over Mandorallen's head, but he got the gist of it. He's getting better at that, because to be fair a lot of people here use words he's never heard.

He smiles patiently at Reid, tilting his head to the side just slightly in a manner reminiscent of a shrug. ]

Ah, so it is the inconsistency that troubles thee? Forsooth, I possess no detailed knowledge of how such things work, but I can hazard a guess for thee -- even in mine own realm, my manner of speech is considered...archaic. However, it is the idiom of my people, one which doth endure despite the ebb and flow of time. My people, the Arends, are a people deeply rooted in tradition, and we have in our hearts no desire to unanchor ourselves from such relics of our history. [ His smile turns rather rueful. ] I daresay it is our strength as well as our fatal shortcoming.

[polyhistor]

[AAAAARGH.]

So how is it you're willing to adapt to the consoles, exactly?

[inshiningarmor]

I am afraid I surely do not know.

[ He seems a bit sheepish to admit it, but hey, Mandorallen's still not even sure what a computer is. ]

And yet thou findest my answers most dissatisfying.

[polyhistor]

Not-- not dissatisfying so much as curious.

[inshiningarmor]

[ Mandorallen can tell Reid is one for the intellectual pursuits, unlike himself. Something about the intensity of his curiosity almost reminds him of Belgarath. He can only imagine how much Reid might enjoy talking to the aged sorcerer. The man is seven thousand years old, after all. He's accumulated quite a bit of knowledge in his time.

But alas, it's Mandorallen here, not Belgarath, and something about Reid's manner has endeared him to Mandorallen. ]

If thy tongue doth burn with curiosity, then I assure thee, thou art free to ask without hesitation. Thou art certainly not the first to have many questions for me.

[polyhistor]

['MY TONGUE DOESN'T BURN WITH ANYTHING' no Reid, breathe. This isn't any different than attending a play or talking to someone who likes to stay maddeningly in character during a production of Shakespeare. He is not going to be ruffled by this. He isn't.

Even if the fact he can't explain it is driving him crazy.]

You mentioned the Arends. Are there-- other races? Groups? That don't [be nice] -- talk that way?

[He sounds just the slightest bit strangled. He's trying really hard not to just lose it, okay?]

[inshiningarmor]

[ Reid, Mandorallen does not understand your strange, sickly distress, but he'll gladly answer your questions. He never thought he'd be the sort, but since he came here he's found that he enjoys talking about his home world. ]

But of course. In truth, it is only the Mimbrate Arends, my people, who retain still the idioms of old. I assure thee, we are quite aware of the, ah, anachronism. The speech of most other peoples of my world more closely resembles thine.