<div align="center"><em><strong>Barlen, the 30th of Pasiphel, 551 MR | 1524 HC | 2039 Ma<br/>Sonnelind, Dhoesone</strong></em></div><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://scontent.fpoz2-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/92333486_603675273572842_3908732625216339968_n.png?_nc_cat=106&amp;_nc_sid=b96e70&amp;_nc_oc=AQkvNlbj8kWVIA0HNISwlIB-PJwZ0NnbgQbQgXHQC5m9LP5_rsy1SlaMizoK6OiaF3M&amp;_nc_ht=scontent.fpoz2-1.fna&amp;oh=123ceb8cf64a18f72d1ebd9c7949ad2c&amp;oe=5EB4EDC8)</div><br/>Sir Arawn listened to his companions' answers carefully, giving them all the attention while they replied to his question and unveiled the vast differences between them in just the few sentences uttered. His greyish -- almost amber in this light -- eyes looked every speaker deep into their own eyes. It might have been just a small gesture of politeness, the thing which skilled diplomats are trained to do to all the better connect with others, or it could have been genuine interest and respect he showed. It was hard to ascertain his face for the intentions that lay beneath the handsome face. Even Vic, having travelled with the man for some time, was unsure at this moment if he had divined the truth correctly. The knight nodded at Nach's words about becoming stronger, in understanding or agreement. He could both understand and respect that. The world was full of challenges and one needed strength, both personal and political, to overcome them. There was no specific reactions to Sarek's words apart from just a general nod, again, either of agreement or politeness. Hearing Wynne's reasoning though certainly got his attention. "A robbery of a temple? Such an ungodly deed must not go unpunished." He seemed to look at the half-elf in a slightly different light now, "It is heart-warming to see such integrity in you, Wynne. Be assured that I will do my best to help you in this sacred endavour." The surprising honesty and down-to-earthiness of the oddly-coloured human got Arawn's smile -- this time his eyes seemed to smile at the man as well. He certainly found that sincerity, maybe even naivete, charming. "And a land we shall all have, my dear Godwine, once we've fulfilled our quest and ended the bandit threat." He didn't respond to Victory's tease apart from giving him a warm smile, a different kind than the usual noble-like polite ones he had been serving the rest. "I confess a curiosity myself as for the arcane mastery that you seek." He nodded and added, "I look forward to seeing you in all of your glory, my wizard." Those trained in the art of discerning what was meant but not what was said, could take a guess that the last part sounded almost... possessive. Or was it just the alcohol getting to the man? Darcassan's mention of his magic got a concerned look from Arawn but he decided not to ask for more seeing as others already did. He made sure to note that information down in his mind, to follow up with the elf when they were not in the middle of a revelry such as this one. "As for me," He started in response to Sarek's question as for his own reasoning, "how could I not? Is this not how legends are born and heroes prove their mettle? Both as a man of skill, and as a man of faith, I decided to take up the challenge, and to venture into the untamed wilderness, and to claim its sylvan secrets for the Silver Prince, and the glory and land for us, mortal scions." There was more that he did not mention at this time, there always was.<br/><br/>The exchange between Wynne and Sarek didn't go unnoticed by Arawn but lacking the details needed to interpret their comments, he just smiled to them, happy to see that they knew each other. Neither did go the veiled but highly suggestive innuendo spoken by some at the table. The knight's right brow rose in thought as his gaze searched for Vic's eyes, expressing some unspoken curiosity, or maybe not exactly understanding the implications of such. He didn't say a word though about it all, preferring not to discuss what he might have misunderstood, or what he might not have the full picture of.<br/><br/>When Sarek wondered as for the reasoning why they were all chosen, Arawn nodded once again, "I must say I feel the same, but who are we to know the thoughts of the Baroness," he smiled and sent a jovial look at Wynne as if to challenge him with that sentence. "She is a formidable woman and keeps great counsel, I'm sure she has given this much thought. I confess it lifts my spirit to see that one of the other parties is to be lead by a fellow knight of the Silver Prince." He directed his attention to one of the two jovial tables, now overshadowed in their loud laughs by the Iron Wraiths. His eyes wandered to a tall, robust man whose face was tarnished with a few white scars. His dark hair was gathered back in a small ponytail, and the sleeves of his expensive doublet did little to hide the muscles beneath. His face lightened the moment he met Arawn's gaze. He raised his hand and waved jovially, not one to care for social conventions. "Sir Maegar Varn." Arawn said by ways of introduction before nodding to the man to welcome him. A grey-haired older-looking man, with a beard of the same colour as his hair, rolled his eyes at his leader's behaviour and turned his attention elsewhere. He was wearing what seemed to be expensive wizardly robes, adorned with silver and gold jewellery. The two women sitting at the table also looked at whom their leader was waving at. The grim-faced, silver-haired and pale-skinned woman looked at Arawn and his party the way a hunter observes the prey. The other woman's face could not be seen as it was covered with a veil. The other three adventurers, of the non-human variety, seemed to pay them no mind. The dwarf was laughing, seemingly comparing his bicep to that of his slim half-elven companion, while the halfling was stuffing his face with food at an unprecedented pace.<br/><br/>The elven woman noticed that she suddenly became a centre of attention for at least half of the other adventuring party. She gave each of them a short look, as if trying to decide if they were worthy of it. She took special attention to Vic's antics and the message his eyes conveyed. She graced him with a glance of her own but it was in a way that a human might look down upon an ant or other vermin, not the way a human would look at a fellow human, and certainly not the way an elf would look at another Sidhe. She deemed them all unworthy of her attention, all except Darcassan. His smile and the wave he gave her puzzled her. She was certainly not expecing that. And neither did Darcassan the mystical sending that immediately made him think of the scent of his childhood forest, and the sound of the whispering trees, and just the one simple Sidhelien word, "The dead one". Then, she turned away.<br/><br/>Godwine was dancing on his own, his mind on the grim task ahead, and yet, here he was, in the middle of an expensive party full of people who used this occasion to simply enjoy themselves. One of them was the half-elf who, some time ago, he saw at the table of the other adventuring party, the Iron Wraiths. It was the same man who seemed so unlike his iron-clad companions. The grizzled veterans and the young wolf cub, with his brown mane of hair, and the beautifully elven emerald-green eyes that seemed almost too sylvane for a mere half-elf. Godwine had seen similar eyes in his dreams when he experienced the lives of the spirit among the trickster faery courts and their ilk.<br/><br/>The man winked at Godwine with appreciation as he danced nearby. A simple free half-elven spirit dancing his worries away.<br/><br/>Nach's exit through the groups of dancing nobles could certainly go better -- the men and women were not expecting any such behaviours and had it not been for the Baroness' very public endorsement of the whole adventuring party, some nobles might have done more than curse the 'savage'. The half-orc's ever-vigilant gaze managed to take notice of the Baroness's disapproving glance at the "disruption" -- and while doing so, he noticed the masterfully crafted golden eagle brooch pinned above her left breast. Normally the trinket would never get any attention from him but this time, for some reason, it seemed familiar. Like the one he owned.