Xavier Roces.
DarkMaster said:
After an hour and half of dancing and playing. The half-elf stops playing and bring Xavier behind the caravan. "Come with me, we will go eat." Xavier notices a lot of family traits among the groups even Volandor'th and the half-orc seems related with the others. "Eat my friend, eat. Volandor'th starts describing various places across the world from the tall spires of Axyr to the Neig grotto near the northern pole and going through the arid barbarian steppes. But he never talk about his country of origin.
When asked about his father. "My father was an elf, my mothers told me he was a member of the Empress court, his name was Th'hel something. I kept the Th at the end, it adds a bit of pezaz when I introduce myself." He finishes laughing.
Xavier listens with great interest to the traveller's tales of far lands. Many of the names of places are familer from his lessons and around the court. But the traveller gives them colour and life that they have not had before. Xavier whistfully plays with the idea of joining them in their travells across the land. Xavier's has to restrain himself or the questions would just tumble out thick and fast.
DarkMaster said:
The half-elf seems pretty open to discuss about anything. As Xavier is almost done with his meal Volandor'th looks at him seriously. "I think Sylla made a great choice you are indeed an excellent man. Tonight her door will be open to you", Volandor'th points one of the caravan looking very seriously at Xavier.
OOC: eek!
A few other members of the group are around eating not really paying attention to their discussion.
Xavier's train of thought comes crashing to a stop. Fortunately, his time in court has taught him how to keep a neutral expression.
Why would she chose me? And what has she chosen me for? Xavier sits silently for a moment as his thoughts whirl, collide and go spinning off in strange directions. He comes up with a multitude of possiblities, but no compelling reasons for chosing one over another. Xavier's Great Great Grandmother comes to mind. Half fey, she lives still but has little to do with the family these days. But as is the custom, he spent a year in her house as a very young child and it is from her that he learnt the language of the elves. He thinks of his elder sister, a priestess of Selune. She often chides him for his seriousness.
Why must you always understand what happening? You could just accept it. Why must you always know before hand whether something is good or bad by definition? The world is too complex to be catagorised so simply.
Xavier's fingers play lightly over the stings of his lute. He considers asking Volandor'th. He decides to ask Sylla herself. A sudden vision of being found naked, trussed up and penniless spings to mind. He sudders and decides to keep his wits about him. And his pants on.
Xavier gets to his feet. His heart pounds.
"I hope that we get the chance to meet again. If it is later rather than sooner, I hope that I have a little more to share about the world at large than I do now."
With that Xavier steps over to where his horse is tied, and makes sure the balnket is secure and everything is fine. He indicates for his hound to follow and heads over to Sylla's wagon. At the door he motions for the hound to stay and guard. Xavier taps gently on the door.
ooc: I'm assuming that some time has passed and Xavier already unsaddled his horse. He would not leave it saddled for any length of time after riding. His longsword and crossbow are still on the saddle, but he is wearing his armour and short sword. Any papers of importance he has, he has on him.
