Shireroth

(OOC: Billy Phish loves his involvement in this story sirs. Haha, it is the British humour, it tickling me by jove.)

"Oh indeed by jove sir what is that?!"
"Shuddup Billy Phish, this is a moment of great suspense and high drama, could you keep your mouth shut for just a moment?"
"Sir of course sir!"

Billy Phish was a simple gurkha. All that was required to make him happy was three bowls of dal bhat a day and someone sporting a British accent to tell him where to shoot his rifle or swing his kukhri*. By the same token, however, all that was required to make him unhappy was the sound of the wings...

Billy Phish was stuck outside Castle Eliria, attempting to negotiate with a guardsman in order to gain entry into the castle. "Excuse me if you'll just take a step back..." "I say there please! If you would just let me be passing, I will assuredly be returning with my master Mister Dravot sir!" "Are...

Sirs, how do you wish for me to take care of this gentleman? Is he to join our friend at the bottom of a well? His cooperation has been very useful, by jove, but does his utility stop here?

Sirs, I must insist that we be off, by jove. The residents of this County are getting rather agitated by our presence. I think we may have offended Gaelen, God of Technology, Sephiroth, God of Warriors and Soldiers, and Finanzia, Goddess of Finance, through our actions. We must leave this place!

Sirs, I have drawn a bead on him. However I have been holding this rifle for almost 11 hours now. Is now yet the time to shoot?