<b><span style="font-size: 18px">Beldabar's Rest</span></b><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(44, 130, 201)">"I ... oh."</span>Ivan's tale of woe takes some of the wind out of Ixana's sails. Not that she considers such an over-the-top story might be slightly on the exaggerated side. Her hands reach out to snatch up Ivan's hand, leaning forward a little, which certainly doesn't hurt the view from Ivan's higher perspective.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(44, 130, 201)">"You poor thing!"</span><br/><br/>Her fingers squeeze his in sympathy,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(44, 130, 201)">"It is difficult to believe there can be such misfortune in the world."</span>Her eyes cast downward, saddened by the tale,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(44, 130, 201)">"But you'll soon have your chance for revenge -- perhaps not against the ones who did ... that ... but some people with very similar plans!" </span><br/><br/>Had they been seated on the same side of the table, she would have slid closer, and let the poor man cradle his head on her shoulder. But alas, they are not. And indeed, such a somber topic of discussion would normally kill small talk. But Ixana isn't one to shut up easily.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(44, 130, 201)">"So ... this perfect woman of yours. Let me guess, a pirate, twin scimitars flashing as she plunders your heart!"</span><br/><br/>Ixana may have subconsciously armed the pirate woman with scimitars. And she's still clutching his hand too, unless Ivan has re-appropriated it.