<strong>"It does my heart glad to hear you have continued to dance my lady. A talent such as yours should be nurtured and brought to the full, not allowed to whither and fade in the shadows. It is pleasing that you managed to find a respectable tavern, as fe and far between as they are. I am apprehensive to see what would have happened had a delicate flower such as you would have found yourself in a place of ill-repute and poor reputation."</strong><br/><br/>There was a twinkle in his dark eyes as the last sentence was said. Did he know the tavern she had danced at? Did he know already how the rest of the crew had faired? Had he kept tabs on his fellow companions over the years? Had he used dark magics to check up on those he once called companions? Or was he just pretending he had?<br/><br/><strong>"Yes, the old days. The days where we were not chained down to the earth, but drifted on the winds, brining our talents to a world of adoring audiences, cheering, screaming, crying and finally applauding as our dark caberet ends. With the world at out feet and adventure around every corner. What is money or wealth if it can not give us that which we desire?"</strong>