pararmour
"Oh... ah, hello there, Kjelle. It's... uh, it's a really nice day today, isn't it?"
The swordsman sidles up, as if from nowhere. His words are stilted and carefully chosen, very carefully choosing the words with which he acknowledged his heavily-armored companion. It wasn't particularly difficult to find her, after all - even when she's not wearing her huge armor, the knight still projects the sheer sensation of 'armor' like a beacon.
Owain twiddles the invitation in his hands nervously, resisting the urge to bend it as he continues speaking.
"Have you heard tell of this, uh, 'Winter Masquerade' that's being put on? Seems very suspect. It's fishier than the air downwind of Tharja on a hot day."
"Uhhh... and it seems I have been invited, in fact!" he continues, presenting the invitation, "It's... uh, quite peculiar in fact. Have you received one of these things as well?"
