The last thing Élie wants is to approach Codwin as the angry, unpredictable archmage. For once, the incipient diplomatic crisis isn't his fault, and he'd like to keep it that way. He's doing this strictly by the book. He has made an appointment.
Good lord, he thought they at least knew how to drink in Andoran.
"That depends. I don't suppose you serve a Fontaine-Terrail?"
"Ragathiel? How interesting – I know someone else by that name. Are you always in the habit of buying drinks for strangers?"
He remembers being young and drunk with revolution. At least, he thought he did. He doesn't think he was ever so pleased with himself, so delighted by his own unseriousness.
"You ought to speak with him before someone tries to arrest you in his stead. Fortunately, I suffer from no such inconvenience."
"Then you are no stranger, and are hosting the constitutional convention in Cheliax, and so I am pleased to buy you a drink. And if you claim that face falsely then I am still pleased to buy you a drink as I would rather fight you drunk."
"Don't listen to him, he's got a sign he hangs over the "Eyrie" sign for when someone really has it coming."
"You may have heard by now that today the Chelish constitutional convention voted to abolish halfling slavery. Personally, I feel very relieved, not least because those friends of your almost managed to prevent it. That would have been a tragedy – don't you agree?"
" - with the Mage's Decrees? That was for after it passed, to make it harder for people to claim they hadn't heard about it, and make sure slaves found out the same time as their masters and couldn't be steered into signing contracts that are nearly as bad."