A single horse carrying two riders trots over the mountain road.
"I must have her name, Vino," the front rider says in a voice much like that of Mr. Burns (OOC: the old rich guy from The Simpsons
). "I need it for my work. Without it I'll never get the status I want."
"Then you should've arsked her, like he said," the one called Vino replies.
"Humbug! I was a paladin, remember?"
"
That was your choice too, sir."
"Yes. Well. Now what do we do? Those others he spoke of are probably gone already."
"We could track them, I suppose."
"Track. Yes. I like the sound of that. Track them..."
The two ride in silence for a while, until the first rider glances up towards the morning sky.
"Vino, what word rhymes with purple?"
"Ehr, I'd try blueish-red instead sir."
"Really? Not... Reddish blue?"
Soon the road dips downward and they disappear once more from view.