"Plates come to you, do they? Do they have little legs?" Lord Sheogorath seems almost giddy at the idea, before his face falls.

"I don't believe my sweet little Pliny made it on board with me. A pity. He's a loyal little teapot, you know. Very handy to have around... partially on account of the fact that his base is a hand, and he skitters around on his fingers." There's a sort of rambling carelessness to how he speaks for a moment, but like a whiff of perfume on the air, it's gone just as quickly, replaced by an air of refinement once more.

"Yes, I do believe I'll be making some use of the library. Ships do tend to be noisy places, don't they?"