Blakie13
Magister of Silvermoon
The young mage smiled in understanding. Slow to anger wasn't necessarily a bad trait, but one he found to be uncommon in humans. Eidric got frustrated and angry if Avaric forgot to do some chore or another. Avaric got angry in general. Usually in private; the man had a great public facade. Such simple things, and humans become so aggressive.
Bel laid his hand on the priest's arm, his magic testing if there was any residue of the shadow magic. The elf had a dangerous amount of curiosity when it came to exploring magic, in all its capacities.
"What is considered drastic? What might cause that level of anger?" The elf asked, looking to the man in question, a light smile on his face as the wine exaggerated his smiling, curious expression. "Once when my brother was mad in Frostwall, he had the cause executed, rather brutally. Traitors, you know. Is it that kind of drastic? Or...?"
As the younger brother of a war commander, he was unsure what was normal as far as a "drastic" reaction. An wine had destroyed his filter.
--
"Oh Van, you tease, you know how I hate guessing games," Avaric chuckled. "It wouldn't be a terrible use of my time to go to the Lamb later..." The man trailed off, looking after Belenar and Jocryn.
The man appreciated the youthful elf's appearance, the way he seemed to flirt with anyone whether intentionally or not, it was all rather endearing. Add to that the personality, the extreme magical ability, and the connection to Corec it gave him, and Avaric couldn't help but admire his prize. And Belenar was his, it was as simple as that in the warlock's mind. He could spare one night away from Belenar, let him explore on his own. He'd make up for it later.
Switching back to demonic, Avaric whispered another response to their secondary conversation. "His blood is divine, I recommend a taste if you have some to spare," he chuckled, the rough demonic echo following the laughter out on the coattails of his response. "But the innocence is very much an act. The boy is a sex addict, an arrogant prodigy of a noble, and a future Magister. He'll be twisting minds to his will and sleeping to get ahead in messy Silvermoon politics within the year. Give him some time, once he warms up to you... all bets are off and the act drops faster than a tauren from a zepplin."
"Challenge him to a magical duel and you'll regret every poor decision you've ever made to lead up to said duel," Avaric teased. "His brother is probably grooming him to be a powerful tool, for machinations beyond my pay grade to know," he drawled.
Bel laid his hand on the priest's arm, his magic testing if there was any residue of the shadow magic. The elf had a dangerous amount of curiosity when it came to exploring magic, in all its capacities.
"What is considered drastic? What might cause that level of anger?" The elf asked, looking to the man in question, a light smile on his face as the wine exaggerated his smiling, curious expression. "Once when my brother was mad in Frostwall, he had the cause executed, rather brutally. Traitors, you know. Is it that kind of drastic? Or...?"
As the younger brother of a war commander, he was unsure what was normal as far as a "drastic" reaction. An wine had destroyed his filter.
--
"Oh Van, you tease, you know how I hate guessing games," Avaric chuckled. "It wouldn't be a terrible use of my time to go to the Lamb later..." The man trailed off, looking after Belenar and Jocryn.
The man appreciated the youthful elf's appearance, the way he seemed to flirt with anyone whether intentionally or not, it was all rather endearing. Add to that the personality, the extreme magical ability, and the connection to Corec it gave him, and Avaric couldn't help but admire his prize. And Belenar was his, it was as simple as that in the warlock's mind. He could spare one night away from Belenar, let him explore on his own. He'd make up for it later.
Switching back to demonic, Avaric whispered another response to their secondary conversation. "His blood is divine, I recommend a taste if you have some to spare," he chuckled, the rough demonic echo following the laughter out on the coattails of his response. "But the innocence is very much an act. The boy is a sex addict, an arrogant prodigy of a noble, and a future Magister. He'll be twisting minds to his will and sleeping to get ahead in messy Silvermoon politics within the year. Give him some time, once he warms up to you... all bets are off and the act drops faster than a tauren from a zepplin."
"Challenge him to a magical duel and you'll regret every poor decision you've ever made to lead up to said duel," Avaric teased. "His brother is probably grooming him to be a powerful tool, for machinations beyond my pay grade to know," he drawled.