<em>I vow to do take no action against the liberty of another sentient being, save when not acting would be worse.</em><br/><br/>The vow of long ago echoes through Oren's mind as the scene lays out before him. Oh sure, all the other Paladins of Freedom he'd ever met, which wasn't as many as the stuffy "honor and duty" type, said it a little differently. Some made it stuffier, some cussed like longshoremen, and still others added random sounds to it- but in the end that's what a Paladin of Freedom believes in. It's probably the only vow he'd never consider breaking- and it's probably the reason he's still in the conversation.<br/><br/>Sure there was the young dragon, and someone who obviously took himself way too seriously, but his attention was almost evenly split two ways.<br/><br/>The first way was to the drowess, by the gods she was gorgeous. He had to remind himself not to stare and was doing a passable job. Well, passable may have been a bit generous but he wasn't staring and drooling like a fool. The satyr in him wants to throw any ideas of having a serious meeting to the wind and just produce his pipes- seeing if she wants to dance. The almost-transparent clothing she was almost-wearing made things a bit obvious and left nothing to the imagination, something in the minus column in Oren's experience- but by the gods everything else was impossibly perfect. Even the way she snapped at the Belial was endearing.<br/><br/>She had to be cheating with her looks somehow, had to be. A little deity in the family line perhaps, some illusions or glamors going? She had to be cheating somehow. Because technically Oren was cheating with having a Satyr for a father- a being considered in some religions as minor spirits of male fertility and sexuality. He was considered so handsome it entered the realm of the supernatural because of having a touch of fey blood in the family tree- and even she may have been out of his league. The inner satyr screams to give her the lust-glare, but Oren quickly decides that it's too much like mind control for comfort. In the end all he has is his handsome face and his principles, he planned to cling to both.<br/><br/><br/>However, the other way his attention was split kept him in the meeting, a feeling of raw hate boiling over. Belial, the devil lord. Oppression and the evils of law and order given a mockery of flesh and blood. Or in this case a projection of one. Same deal. It was the reason he came to the meeting dressed to the nines in his well kept and dashing looking leather armor, his goatee immaculately groomed, and holding out his sword- a legendary Holy Liberator. The freedom loving cousin of the Holy Avenger the other kind of Paladins drooled over.<br/><br/>"<strong>You're going to have to do better then that Belial,</strong>" he begins, "<strong>Personally, I've heard about what happens to beings who make deals with devils.</strong>"<br/><br/>Looking over the Holy Liberator and looking contemplative, he takes a step closer to the projection.<br/><br/>"<strong>Frankly, I came hoping you'd show up and I could show you where to stick this, and I wouldn't trust a cup of water from you- but I'm curious as what you could possibly mean by protecting the world. I'm still listening, for now.</strong>"