"Banter... yes, I know of this."
Cardanith said as he leaned closer to the Table while casting his gaze over at Galtharian who had placed the elf's drink of choice down before him. All the while the scowl adorning his face almost forced itself to appear as a smile as he looked to Baralinion.
The night had been filled with conversations spanning far and wide between the patrons of the Hammer and Harp Inn. Galtharian and the rest of the staff passing this way and that, bobbing and weaving while carrying trays filled with all sorts of savory stews and sweet delights.
Baralinions gaze has passed over many of the patrons within, his eyes peering over the tables and around the fire pit as he drowned out the conversation of the elves beside him. Not really wishing to hear or understand the consistency of leaves from what ever region they were from had become during winters frosted embrace.
He found his gaze locked onto Cardanith on more than one occasion, the elf he had heard so many stories of... THE Cardanith, the very same who trained and helped the Caun during the passing of so many of our people in Arrowhaven. When hope was but a sliver, he gave us Hope.
The night had continued on and the patrons waxed and waned through time until there was nothing but six individuals who remained. The once joyous laughter and busy crowd had died down to mere whispers and snores from some of the less lively individuals. All seemed to be fairly regular peoeple, farmers, cattlemen and even some of the ranch hands from the northern fields. All coming to spend coin and gestures on trying to fetch what ever inn wretch had decided to appear for a free bite, until his eyes rested on Her.
Baralinion had stretched himself out and propped his boots up upon the end of the table and had attempted to recline partly in a chair as he pretended to study the 'works on wargs' by Mr. Bitte Enne Halffe, as intriguing as they were he could not help but keep his eyes focused on the yougn woman some tables across. Was this the one he was looking for? Was this the one Cynraede spoke about? Was this his courier? His lips peeled back in a wicked smile as he reached for a bowl of the fruit near by.
The raspberry had sailed cleanly across the room, nearly grazing Master Galtharians ear and found its mark right upon her cheek. Her rather rage filled gazed flicked towards his direction, as he simply offered a smile and a bow of his head.
"Oi! Fruit boy!"
