Barthelemy listens quietly, looks into his glass, and sets it down firmly.
You have given me much to think about, my Lord. I think I am probably too drunk to make much sense of what you said right now, but I think I will go write it down so I remember.
Barthelemy nods to himself, belches loudly, and sniffles a few times. He then gets up a bit clumsily, salutes Micheal, and then bows with a surprising fluidity.
You've obviously seen much more action than I, and so I respect your opinion more than my own. I shall look to find you here again so we can continue this conversation when I am... a bit more...
He sways, and hastily exits with as much dignity as he can muster.
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