The half-elf cocked his head curiously as the human spoke. His tone was one of slight amusement, but Arphenion could not tell what exactly it was directed towards. He leaned back on his horse and looked around and attempted to get his bearings. The small town was a dusty watering hole, one of many dotted across the open plains he had found himself traveling. Other than the tavern, which doubled as an inn, it appeared that most of the other buildings were for the bare necessities of passing travelers.

Lucky to be in the South? Is the man running from something?

Arphenion was pondering the man’s appearance and stance when the conversation shifted. It seemingly included him in it as well. The deep voice of the squat man caught the half-elf off guard. It was heavy, smooth, and had dark undertones in it. His chuckle seemed genuine and his invitation was offered without malice, as far as Arphenion could tell.

“Well met, Nosdyn.” The bladesinger tried to get a read on the man, but with his cloak and mask it was difficult to glean much. The one thing that he could tell was that there was a mid-night blue coloration to his skin. The elf assumed a demon, but one thing he had learned about Althanas was nothing was what it seemed. If he was a demon though… “The name is Maevan, it is certainly a pleasure to meet you both!”

Giving a false name was a way of safety, and Maeven was an outgoing personality that would get along with almost anyone. He would fit in perfectly with an overly hospitable demon, and should be just pleasant enough not to raise the hackles of the human. Arphenion wanted to know more about both of them before he would reveal anything himself.

“I just got into this dustbowl of a town, but if you’re inviting me to a real town with more to offer, I guess I would be a fool to decline the offer.” He flashed a half-smile and forced a very realistic laugh. If he was going to play the part, he wanted to make sure it was as convincing as possible. “Lead on my friend.”