Shadow of the West

[Novnarwen]

His own words roamed furiously around inside of his head. What in the almighty Rea's name had he been thinking? The moment he had seen Korak, he should have left the 'merry' company, containing Zamara, the elf and himself. He should have excused himself, and left, before that rude scoundrel had approached him and called him 'Priest'. It was his real title true enough, but the elf didn't know that. Or at least, he hadn't, before that twit had managed to ruin it all.

"Lord, Korak, what a pleasure. I'm sorry, but I think I'll have to see you by and by, as the King and the Queen have just been announced, and I am anxious to get to know this Emissary!"

How stupid was that; a pleasure to meet Korak? Such men as Korak were never a pleasure to meet. Korak had without a doubt humiliated him in front of the Elf! It was outrageous! It was absolutely devastating! The thought of him being the possible future King made the Priest want to curse loudly. As a Priest though, it was his duty not to forfeit the good opinion of others, and therefore Tarkan restrained himself for doing anything not suitable. Holding his head high, he decided not to lose his self control. He would deal with this Noble man later, if it was the last thing he did. Due to the latest events, the meeting with Korak, Tarkan didn't dare look at Zamara, who was currently sitting next to him; not after what had just happened. She was probably having the time of her life, enjoying it. She would probably take advantage of it as soon as possible, but he would be prepared. A woman would not break him. Instead of looking her way, he let his gaze wander cautiously. He recognized half the party that was gathered here, but few had he actually talked to.

The male priest sat uneasily on a soft cushion, cross-legged. He tried paying attention to conversations that were taking place in the room, as he kept still himself; he didn't really have anyone to talk to. At the time none here, except the King and the Emissary interested him. He caught a word now and then, sometimes sentences coming from the various tables surrounding him. Some whispered, meanwhile other talked loudly; some giggled to themselves, others shared their laughter with everyone. Everything was just a blur; it was downright annoying. The Priest would have gone crazy, if he hadn't realised that it was probably best to focus on someone, and not the whole room at once. He tried focusing on the conversation that was probably the most interesting yet. Glancing over at the King's table, which was just in front of him, he discovered that Faroz was busy teaching the stranger how to eat. By this, the Priest was fairly surprised. The stranger, he realised now, was not at all as he had imagined. He could not quite explain what it was, but there was something unusual about him. Unusual is probably not the best word for it, the priest thought to himself, studying every movement the stranger made; 'rare', is probably the best way to describe him. The feeling of interest and eagerness to get to know this man, this Emissary, rose violently from his chest. In his eagerness, he grew quite forgetful of the recent events, and suddenly he found himself asking the High Priestess how she thought the Stranger appeared.

"I shall see when I talk to him. For now, I will observe," she answered. By the look of her, she was just as eager to follow the man with her piercing eyes as he was. Agreeing with her, he gave a faint smile, as if thanking her for her honest answer.