Ithacles took a seat on the other side of the bar while Ulbarich busied himself writing down whatever it was he was about to say. He didn't want to rush the man by staring at the pencil strokes. Being a mute, he had to be impatient with hhis disability. It had to be difficult to get out a goood joke when the conversation was always moving three times faster than your ability to respond. The Prince reached out to the squirrel, the thing that gave the bar its name.
It was a stuffed squirrel sitting in a rocking chair with a pipe in his little dead paw. The taxidermist had managed to make it look amused in a sort of mischievous way. The chair rocked quietly and Ithacles turned back, empty glass in hand, to read the note.
He laughed, but only because it made him a bit self aware.
"Oh, well I don't mean to give you the wrong impression. I just feel as though it's a misallocation of resources. You're a decorated soldier."
He set his glass down and went for the bottle. It sloshed down into the two glasses and you could tell it was the good stuff because it practically painted the sides.
"But it's nice to have a patriot around," he said. Ulbarich might have met Vedette before buut he certainly wouldn't know about how her position became vacant. Taking off her uniform and going on some bullshit adventure with a bard...