Demvarien D'Lyrandar, Half-Elf Knight Phantom (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=655976), Location: Navigation Room, The<em>Blaze</em><br/><div class="floatright">(http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/037/8/6/Portrait___Einar_by_Lleayhe.jpg) (http://lleayhe.deviantart.com/art/Portrait-Einar-153175219)</div><br/>Demvarien turned to Sam as he noisily entered the room, flashing a smile. "I don't know about beards, but I bet I've got more chest hair than you, gnome," he replied with a chuckle at the absurdity of the claim, "though maybe not hairs per square inch." The half-elf took the offered glass, smiled again, then took a sip... and his look immediately soured. "That's some strong stuff, Sam," Demvarien said with a grimace, putting it back without daring to taste another drop.<br/><br/>He offered most of the<em>Blaze</em>'s other crew members a nonverbal greeting as they entered -- a smile, a wave, a nod of the head. Still, his greeting for Reala was slightly, but noticeably less enthusiastic. Old, war wounds were slow to heal, and that was just as true for the one-time Knight Arcane as any other. He nearly scowled at Zepha, managing to keep his face flat. Demvarien was none too fond of his cousin, if only for her close relation to House Lyrandar's Matron who had so kindly dragged him back into the family after the war.<br/><br/>As Vandros explained the situation, Demvarien patiently waited for Leisha to finish, then leaned forward to speak. "I should be able to put my sword, at the very least, in my pack, if they will let me carry it on the premises," he added, "and I can wear robes over my armor. It's not heavy and it's not likely to give me away unless someone searches me. Alternatively, I could prepare some more directly offensive magic and leave my weapons behind entirely." He settled back in his chair, indicating that he was finished, but then changed his mind. "Nonlethal magic, of course. Can't have any incidents with a fireball," the wizard said with a chuckle.