Silence.
Silence was all that befell the clutter of the upper-class, even the respective heroes flicking their heads down, unwilling to protest the consensus being built between the Pope and his constituents.
"Well, that settles that. And as for you, Tarnell, I hope that you understand the difference between you and I, not only in class, but etiquette. Not only interjecting to refute the word of the gods, but even going so far as to make a stand for a wraith. It was a mistake to invite like-minded, greedy merchants such as yourself to this banquet--one that I won't repeat in the future."
Tharos was staring into the man who'd originally spoken out in defense of Rowan, the quiet anger gnawing away at his hands to tighten around his staff. And still, he maintained his composure.
The room--primarily those who carried with them some form of gold necklaces or wristbands--booed at Tarnell, hands thrown in the air with all the strength of their combined rage.
