<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/>The red-haired knight whose grey eyes seemed more to glisten with amber, reflecting the torchlight of the surprisingly well-lit ballroom, glanced at<em>his</em>wizard and almost allowed himself to smile in that moment. He moved his attention to the rest of his future warband and listened carefully as they spoke. He seemed always vigilant, exactly like a proper knight should be. Or was it just good old-fashioned curiosity? "Allow me to introduce myself as well. As you have already heard in our previous meeting, my name is Sir Arawn Avan and I have come to these beautiful lands from the far south, namely, the kingdom of Avanil." The way he spoke was unmistakenly noble. Polite but certain of every word he uttered, almost verging on arrogant. He was accustomed to his words being listened to. His voice had a pleasant depth to it and was, in a way, quite captivating.<br/><br/>"It will be an honour to lead such an able company of talented men." A small smile formed at his face making the birthmark in the shape of a majestic red dragon even more visible. "If you will indulge me in just a moment of curiosity, why have you decided to join this expedition? The task before us is monumental, the dangers ever-present, and yet, here you -- we -- all are." His eyes looked for a moment at Vic -- was the question directed at him as well, or did he include him only to be polite in their new company?<br/><br/>The Iron Wraiths at one of the nearby tables burst into almost uncontrollable laughter, almost in unison, with the massive man who, even sitting, was towering over the rest of his companions, being so loud that for a moment even the minstrels' song seemed not strong enough to drown his booming voice. Even the half-elf who looked so out-of-place among the iron-clad veterans, smiled at the joke. The elven woman sitting next to him rolled her eyes at her mostly human companions and sighed exhasperated. She was the only who was not amused by the situation. She muttered something in her native tongue, but it all drowned among the sounds of music. She looked around and noticing the other groups, paid special attention to Darcassan as she pierced him with her unnerving gaze.