Wildor's French Cafe. (A French language thread) (BETA)

[Merien]

Pas de problemes ma jolie! Tiens, voici un croissant chaud avec beurre et un capuccino.

je n'aime pas de cafe mais merci pour le coissant

[Wildor]

Et bien, je boirai le capuccino moi-meme...hmmm! C'est bon!

[Merien]

est-ce que je peux avoir une chocolat chaud?

[Milonius]

Bonjour Wildor. Je voudrais un cafe s'il vous plait, avec sucre suplementaire?

(Not sure if I got that right, had to use a translator for the last word.)

[Aleksandr Kaptsov]

*walks in and points at a scone*

[Wildor]

Sacrebleu! Bordel!! Putain!!! (very mild French expletives)



( I'm trying to get this damned French keyboard to work...Like anything French, it's stubborn! )






( EDIT. LATER ): Je serai damné! Ca fonctionne! ( I'll be damned! It works! )






(EDIT AGAIN MUCH LATER): ( In the name of Charles De Gaulle, somebody post something in this thread!! I can't edit the same post indefinitely.)

[Wildor]

You wanted me to post Wildor?

Ah oui Monsieur...Je vous attendais... ( Ah yes Sir... I was expecting you...)

((For the sake of universal clarity, this part of the thread will be in English))


* The owner goes to the back room and comes back carrying a very old wooden cup. Filling it red wine, he takes his guest outside. There, standing side by side, the two men gaze down Arumen Alley. *


Our only true home. The road.

Do not kneel Sir. One such as you kneels to no one.


According to our tradition, and by your actions in defending the honor of a young Lady, you have earned the title of:


CHEVALIER ERRANT D'EVONY- KNIGHT ERRANT OF EVONY


Expect no reward. The title brings none.

Only a burden.

To conduct yourself by the code.

Nowhere is it written, nor has any word of it ever been spoken.

To know it, look into your heart.

Accept the burden by drinking from this cup Sir...

[Wildor]

::drinks the very old wooden cup of red wine::

Now my brother, the road awaits. Let your deeds bring a little more light unto a dark world.

And remember, the code is not a binding set of rules to live by.

No knight errant was ever a saint.

Rather, the code is what I said it is.

A burden. That will weigh heaviest when no one is around.

When you have only yourself to address, ponder and judge.



Bonne route mon frere.



*... and the owner goes back into the Café, offering a silent prayer to the safekeeping of his newest brother. *

[Merien]

tis been unstickied....

[Scrave]

pars-que vous ne parlez pas francais.