[It seems his wry, snarky little comment is coming back to haunt him. He should have known better. ]

Lord Larsa! My lord, are you all right? What are you doing he... I apologise, my lord, that was a rather stupid question. Here, tell me where you are so I that i may come and find you.

[Because he was just as bad as Basch, sometimes, and occasionally even worse, with no regard to himself.]

I assure you, Lord Larsa, that I am doing quite well. There is no need to worry over me.

[And, of course, his body is now obligated to call him out on his lie, with a sharp flair in his side that makes him near double-over in pain. He clutches at his side and returns as best he can to an upright position.]

Truly, ...nnngh... Larsa, you needn't...ahh... concern yourself... tch... with my welfare. I'll be fine.