"I suppose I have misjudged the situation" Merelao muttered, tilting his head until the candlelight caught the sharp line of his jaw. He shook his head slowly, a stray lock of gold shimmering. "I must confess, I am a novice in these arts, scurrying through the gloom like a viper or a common rat is a skill I have yet to master. It would seem you are the veteran of the gutters, no? So, as a senior should with a wide-eyed newcomer, I beg of you: guide me. Lead me through the labyrinth to which I am so ignorant of."
"It would be my distinct pleasure, my lord," Alpheo said, his snort cutting through the high-born jest.
"It appears to me that you are working with a misunderstanding of your role in all of this. I am not extending my hand merely to pad my ranks with a few hundred extra lances. If that were the case, I would be doing nothing more than throwing silverii to filth-backs."
"Filth-backs?" Merelao repeated the word as if it were a strange insect.
