Of course, Prosecutor Kaessel. If you wish me to contact Maugrim again, simply let me know. The Khorovar turns from his companion as Beren Lann turns the corner onto their group.

Gryphon smiles his serene smile at the Brelish Magistrate. Full of pith and vinegar, are we little Brelander? If you choose to be the paper tiger, you’ll only have yourself to blame when you’re disarmed by my scissors.

When Bergen Lann takes the occidental wizard’s hand in his vice grip, rather than pitting machismo against machismo, a very curious thing happens. Gryphon let’s out a half cry-half grunt of pain, winces his eyes closed for a moment and almost falters to one knee; actually reaching his left hand out and steadying himself on the magistrates opposite shoulder.

Ughhh... pardon me, Magistrate Lann; at the party last night, trying to defend Magistrate Navel and young Layla Sencriss, I received some rather painful burns from one of the fire monsters. He indicates the fire damage still present on his tunic, and the badly scabbed skin underneath. I haven’t yet had the chance to seek out any magical healing, and I was unprepared for your... vigor.

He stands up straight, pats the Magistrate’s hand reassuringly, and gives him a look of manly understanding as if to say, it’s quite alright, old boy, accidents happen.

Whatever differences our countries may have, it was good to sense your Sending response this morning. It brings me a great deal of joy to see how well we work together to eliminate some of the city’s most immanent threats. If there’s more that you need of me, then I’d be pleased to acquiesce.