Shadow of Hope XII
The lizardman suddenly found the conversation growing to be three-way; though more complicated for him personally, it was a welcome transition from the stolid silence that had suffused the gathering at first.
Taking advantage of the pause in which Borlak seemed to be gathering his thoughts, the Silveraean turned his calm attention upon Rôhn; he had scrutinized the Dwarf well enough earlier during the debacle with the horse, and so had no need to narrow his own eyes in return.
“That meeting has become an honored part of our own history; the Dwarves have proven to be true allies since that day,” he replied. The words weren’t what he might have chosen in other circumstances, but he’d been on the surface long enough to recognize and return the more formal style of speech that was often used there. Still, recognizing that the situation couldn’t stand entirely on formality, he slipped a bit back towards his more customary cadence. “One day shall I look upon this relief, perhaps? It would be a happy thing to see, I think.”
“You have both met our host in the great city, and come here from other tasks, then?” he added, addressing both Rôhn and Borlak at once, to keep the words flowing. Or did some other chance bring you this way?”
Turning slightly to include Rôhn in the conversation, no sign of irritation at the intrusion, the barbarian answered. “I had tribal business, a remuda of tribal horses to deliver,” he said with obvious pride at the mention of the animals.
Looking at lizardman, he added, “And then came the invitation. I might otherwise be continuing back towards my homeland.”
The young man in dark blue robes was half listening to the conversation while noting the details about their surroundings and the people around him. The talk was rather interesting, telling him a decent amount about the three participants. Though he reserved himself from chiming in, it felt rather inappropriate, not to mention his story was far less impressive sounding than the others. What was he to say, that he made a mistake in distrusting a friend, that he was too weak to help in the search, or incapable in the defense of those who he cared for? Perhaps it was better if he never left home; he certainly did not need to seek his tutelage from some unfeeling bastard when there was such talent in his homeland. He sighed inaudibly, the sooner he figured out the facts to this whole ordeal the better. He would return home with his father and his friends and all would be well. He stepped away and folded his hands across his chest, anxious but unsure why.