Oh I'm sure there's a helluva tale there. But I think that's a story I need a beer for.

[As nauseous as he is from pain and then powering through half a dozen bottles of curatives he'd still give anything for a beer right about now. Or something harder. Definitely an occasion for breaking out the good shit.]

Not really any being ready for that sort of thing.

[He shrugs but then reaches back, snags one of the rich blue tails of his sash and rolls it, twisting it up tight and then shoving the thick rope of fabric into his mouth, between his teeth like a bit. He bites down a little, tests it, then nods to Izunia.

Ready as he'll ever be.]