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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paranoia833" data-source="post: 3522257" data-attributes="member: 49641">As they are ushered in, Melchior's cannot quite conceal his disappointment at being unable to get a reaction out of his 'comrades'. Another time perhaps.He listens to Dormiano's speech intently, smiling slightly as he drones on. His conclusions are much the same as Avram's. A brutish bully... dangerous to be sure, House Tarkanan was no dragonmarked dynasty led by pampered scions, to get to the top he must have earned with sweat and (presumably other peoples) blood. Judging from the tasteless decor and what little he knew of House Tarkanan's history, Melchior would guess that Dormiano was a low-born thug who killed and cheated his way up the totem pole and now has pretensions of aristocracy. It must gall him that he had more money and influence than many of the pure marked and yet they would never, ever consider him their equal. He would be fun to torment... but not yet. Not till Melchior had proved himself valuable enough that he could not be replaced.As he takes the identification, a trivial issue considering his own 'history' had been non-existent for the best part of a decade. A small question crops up in his mind. He already knows the answer, but it's simply too fun not to ask."If it I may ask sir... I don't suppose the fact that, beyond a vague preference for Dhakaani red, I know nothing whatsoever about wine will make me particularly exceptional among Aundairan Wine barons?"</blockquote>

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