Kylan looked at Rafelor as he slowly spoke, “So a smuggler changes his career to seek fame and fortune at the behest of others. After that, another woman named Syndra Silvane hired both of us on another job that took us to Chult.” “I got a letter from Baron Althon asking me to help him with a personal mission alongside Arnara. "Well, I guess people had the right eye for both of us.” Rafelor said. Followed her from Mirabar to the humid depths of the Chult. you have spent considerable time with my daughter. something to be said for a man to have made their own way,” he said before dismissively adding, “I suppose who your family.might have been is…unimportant. And sighing, he knew that he already blew any chance of a solid first impressions. The answers that Kylan was looking for were not in the words Rafelor spoke, but elsewhere. The one thing he was certain of was that the questions being asked were all part of the game being played. Nor did he know anything of Kylan’s exploits and history. But beyond being the head of House Ustina, he didn’t know what a Sovereign of the house did. It was one matter to say no to your father, it was another to say no to its noble head. She ran away from him and her responsibilities. However, their relationship was difficult as she defied him constantly. Anything said at all were always with bitter words. She had spoken of him in distant terms someone she respected and honored in name only. But that mattered little compared to his real disadvantage Rafelor knew next to nothing of Arnara’s father. He knew where he grew up after only a few words, and his lack of station was easy to read. But here, the positions weren’t equal somehow the elf had an advantage, an edge. Two rivals in a gang, posturing for positioning and status. Rafelor swallowed, and with the initial shock passing, he worked to calm himself. And at an age and distance from Tel’Quessir culture, so that you don't even know the proper forms." Discarded on the streets of Baldur's Gate I should think, based on your accent. So.one cast out from their family?” Kylan asked himself as his eyes narrowed looking at Rafelor’s face. The comedic flurry of gestures marking him as unfamiliar with Tel’Quessir forms of address and manners. He fumbled his response and, in a panic, attempted to recite every mannerism he knew, bowing, then saluting and then trying to do both at the same time.
#The avowed rep wow how to
“Uh.uh.I.well.no.sir.Mr.uh…boss.” stammered Rafelor, not clear on how to properly respond to the high born elf. ”Do you have a house or have a family name?” He continued scrutinizing Rafelor as he spoke again. Rafelor is it?” Kylan asked in a tone that demanded compliance. “And the one you have been travelling with these last few months. Arnara normally had these qualities too, but now she was quiet, demure, perhaps even timid as she stepped back from the men as the dance started. More than that, Kylan had an air of surety and confidence that was brazenly on display.
They both had a similar style and grace to their movements. Looking at the elf, it was clear that not just the physical shape of the face, or color of the hair was similar to Arnara.
Kylan slowly circled him, his face a mask and all Rafelor could do, was meet the level gaze head on. Rafelor stood there with his mouth open in surprise as the patriarch stepped forward and looked the half-elf up and down.
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