Irene
*Once again, Talia is surprised at Varis' common trend of dismissal. There are many small wonders in the world to enjoy if one allows themself to view them. Whiterun, bards, simple rooms in simple inns... Talia was beginning to quesiton if this man had anything to offer at all. Although, the conversation with Branora dashed these doubts. Anyone who took the time to get the attention of the lower class ought to know the power of their words. Perhaps he could still be a useful ally.*

*Although, Talia couldn't help but shake the curiosity of what someone could possibly want with rearranging a room. Varis' question brings her out of her thoughts.* "As a matter of fact, I have found residence. I have also slowly began to appreciate the Nordic population's designs. They are anything but familiar, but their art and buildings exude a character I did not expect in such a frozen land."

*Talia turns her head to look at the dunmer once more.* "So you may understand my bewilderment at your lack of a similar appreciation for such artwork. Truly, there is nothing similar to it elsewhere. Their beauty comes from their identity, for they do not try to be anything but themselves. It is something in which I had expected such a pronounced individual to show more interest."
Ray
The sorcerer glanced toward the stalls around him, an eyebrow rose as he witnessed the wares being peddled. Though, his observations were short-lived, as Talia began to *Challenge* His superiority complex. Varis looked toward her with a fair bit of curiosity. He was intrigued to see what words she would use. Would she attempt to put him down, or engage in whitty banter? So far, she had been cordial and respectful... And to his knowledge, he had been just as such, *Toward her*. The rest of their surroundings were of little importance, to him. 

Though, it seemed she took a liking to the Nord's culture, rather than their physiques and looks. Varis smirked. How dissimilar they were, it seemed they appreciates opposite but equal facets. 

"Perhaps you have a point. Perhaps. Though, consider my position, hm? *I* Come from a land of twisting stalks of fungi, gnarled roots grown into massive towers that block out the sun, where the immortal Wizard Lords of my people command the roots and fungi to their every whim, every desire. Imagine, the spindling bridges between towers, the gourd homes that hang from the caps and turrets of these structures, and the myriad of arcane lights, *Culled* Daedra, fanatic worshippers in the streets, and fiery scholars slitting the throats of their rivals in broad day light, or striking a flaming palm against their chests to rip out their hearts."

Varis grinned a little.
Sophia
She glanced behind herself, toward Varis, with a look of obvious shock. Was that what the homeland was truly like?! Why did he seem to *Appreciate* Such chaos? She looked forward again, sent into a state of obvious bewilderment.
Ray
"This place just seems so... Tame." He sighed through his nostrils, began to frown, but then, seemed...*Relaxed*. "Perhaps, I will grow to like it. *Perhaps*." He looked toward Talia. "The identity of these Nords is not missed by one such as myself. Though, I have read the histories. They have... Become tame. In my youth, I heard the stories of Ice Demons wearing pale flesh shouting my people apart, as they attempted to conquer the home of my ancestors. I know the tales of them raising the dead with merely their voices, causing mountains to rumble and part at their breath, and the fire in their eyes, the mirth in their laughter, as they tore through the defenders of the Velothi."

Varis smirked a tad. "Hence, I expected something else entirely, than what I see now." He glanced about, toward a relatively civilized, content place full of merchants, guards, and peace. He yearned to see the darkness beneath the surface, and grinned at the prospect of torturing every detail out of the night crawlers when they came tapping upon his door. "Though, thank you, I'm glad I seem *Pronounced* To you. It took a lot of time to curate such a sense of self," He frowned as he rubbed his fingers together, glancing at the silver jewelry that wrapped around his hands to form claws on the index and middle fingers, with more chains and designs covering up to his forearm. 

He glanced toward her. "Though, *Please*, tell me more. Perhaps I will see what you see, with a bit of education. I may have my reservations, and, disdains, but first and foremost, I am an academic. I am not afraid of being wrong. It just, *Surprises me*, when I am." He smirked. It was an attempt at a joke, but, he lacked any real charisma to pull off a humorous expression.