Fritz returns to the bar, slamming aside the doors in haste as usual. As he enters he notes the men by the bar and gives them a quick nod, then moves purposefully to the table of Duke Steffen.
Word has just reached me, Duke Lothar, of your statements regarding violence towards the locals who frequent this bar. I cannot help but feel they are directed at the scuffle I was involved in the other evening. With that in mind I would have you know that no permanant damage was done to those drunkards despite their disrespectful attitude towards their betters.
Raising his hand Fritz briefly forestalls Lothar's attempt to answer.
This being said, I am a soldier and I have a soldier's sensibilities. My frustration at having to deal with my enemies in the Diet with only the sword and fist of my voice and wit may well have boiled over into taking umbrage too easily when I meant only to attend here peacefully. I tend to talk with my hands when words seem insufficient or overused. I recognize, however, that I am a guest in your lands and I come now to offer my apology if I have offended your noble self.
Bowing deeply, Fritz's face remains unreadable.
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