Finally, you get to see some speech from the beast of a guy I always talk about writing for. The Pyruvian accent is based off Scottish, Glaswegian specifically. He’s six feet tall with dark skin, brown eyes and a battle axe worth noting.
“Dornt ye fash yerse abit ‘er,” said the dark-skinned one, his arms crossed while he gazed into the white-haired one’s eyes for a moment as she gazed back. “She gabs lots when she’s canty.”
“And this is Rük,” she explained to him, her eyes turning towards the man she was introducing. “Your eyes are looking a little red,” she noticed. “Have you been drinking again?”
“Drinkin’?” he asked, opening his eyes wide. “Wa ye hink ‘at?”
“Stand on one leg,” she commanded.
He tried unsuccessfully and fell right down on his backside. He cursed.
“Blooter’d an’ tipsy arenae th’ sam hin’,” Rük said, his words slurring a little.