"[color=fdc68a]Henri greets the Constable.[/color]"
	If this is one of those stuck-up nobles, he needs to to present himself at least this much. Although it was irritating, not everyone's as carefree about these insignificances as Antigone.

	The door opens and closes by itself, away from Henri's preoccupied hands still carrying the three crates of wine. He did think the room looked nice, but he never understood this pride the humans took from killing animals, so much that they'd plaster their heads on a wall like this. Especially that elk.

	Henri sets the crates down the carpeted floor as he sits. "[color=fdc68a]Indeed. Would you care for some eighty-year-old wine? I have whiskeys here,[/color]" he reaches in the crates and holds up a bottle of the whiskey slightly above the height of Aaron's desk, "[color=fdc68a]or is vodka more to your liking? By the way, I heard about what happened in the mausoleum. Per chance, did it involve a blond elf and two teenagers? Please spare no details.[/color]"