Eloen stiffened again. Why was he laughing? Had what Colin asked really that funny? If anything Eloen interpreted it as a legitimate question in precaution. The only mages she had ever met were the magisters of Tevinter. Eloen swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Her shoulders tensed with anxiety.

The other elfs tone had changed. He want from laughing nearly deafening loud to speaking in barely a whisper. He had clearly detected Eloens discomfort in the situation, much to the girls chagrin. She frowned slightly, her default neutral expression faltering for a moment. She wished desperately that she was standing behind Colin, or at least further away from the conversation herself.

"I do not mind answering your questions." She said, quietly, but fearing exactly what he might be asking quickly added on "Perhaps we can continue this conversation elsewhere, as not to disturb conversation within the tent." She averted her eyes. She wondered why the man was so curious about her. Was it because she was an elf? Or was it because of her overall disposition. She could tell it annoyed the others, but did it interest him? She certainly hoped not.

"Oh!" Eloen said with a little gasp, as if she had made an inconvenient mistake. "I have not even introduced myself to you, my good sir, I apologize."

She tucked her arms behind her back, bowing forward slightly. A very clearly rehearsed introduction. "I am Eloen, at your service." She was sure her friend would find a good way to introduce himself, so she did not mention Colin's name to the other elf.

Eloen allowed herself to watch the Elven man for longer then just quick glances. She had been conditioned to be able to detect changes in people's moods and body language. And something had changed in the other man, or at least something was strange about his demeanor. He spoke with a soft, nearly understanding, voice. But his body was tense. He was looking around nervously and standing stiffly.

She took another instinctual step towards Colin, hoping to feel some sort of safety in her friend. She didn't feel afraid of the other elf, and really didn't mind him asking questions, but she was still worried.

After his quick correction of the dwarven lass and his simple introduction, if it could even be called one, Gereth was in the middle of returning his attention back to the young lady knight who had summoned him here only to have it called upon by another member of the little party that had gathered here. It was the elder of the group, a grizzled looking human who just by a quick observation Gereth could practically read the tales of his battled filled life from the man's battered expression. As the man spoke his intelligent and rather elegant way of speaking served as quite the contrast to his gruff exterior, which Gereth found quite appealing. Living among the Avvar Gereth learned to appreciate a person's ability to hold their own in the fight as well as being able to maintain a keen mind, the way the large tribesman viewed it a person's blade is only as sharp as their mind. But pushing aside this first impression Gereth focused more on the man's actual question, which Gereth had to take with a grain of salt seeing as it was about his statues and relation to those who refer to themselves as the Qunari, a topic that always managed to spur Gereth's ire. "I am told that the lowlanders who call themselves Qunari would refer to me as a Vashoth. But as far as it should be concerned I am of the Avvar, nothing more nothing less."

As Gereth gave the answer that he had given a countless times before he couldn't help but feel something from the man to whom he spoke. It was a odd sensation, but one that the Avvar mage was not unfamiliar with. He looked the man over for a second trying to focus in on what he felt and the more he tried the stronger the gnawing that the man emanated off the warrior became. Gereth couldn't help but recall the days of his youth and his training with his hold's Augur, he had spent months housing what lowlanders call a spirit within him in order to hone his skills with magic. The spirit's presence gave similar feeling of something not of this realm, but the aura that this man emitted was... hungry, as if a fire was given human shape.

Colin smiled when the slightly younger Elven lad burst out laughing and waited patiently for him to come back to him after addressing Eloen, or at least as patiently as he could, which meant he looked to everyone else in the tent and observed as much as he could. Eloen for her part introduced herself in her formal way before taking a step closer to Colin himself, which was pretty close since they had already been standing side by side, more or less. He half smiled, he liked that she felt comfortable with him but did wish she was more confident in herself. He'd spent enough time with her now that her anxiety was easy to detect whenever it spiked. He placed a hand on her back in what he hoped was a comforting fashion, but wanted to disguise it so as not to cause any awkwardness.

“Excuse my lack of manners friend, Eloen here was polite enough to introduce herself already. I'm Colin Roche. No one specifically told me you could turn people into such things but it never hurts to be careful, does it? No one wants to end up in frog soup after all.” Colin laughed, finally answering his question. The lad seemed strange but thus far was good company. “Which sounds admittedly a little gross even to me. I mean, I've eaten some pretty funky shit, but never quite reached frog soup.” He continued smiling all the while. “I'm not actually too sure why I was interested in your age. It's as good an opening curiosity as any I guess, maybe I was interested in how long you'd had to hone your magical abilities... Typically in a large scale fight I'd kill the mages first if I could, so I guess in our group here it'll be part of my job to keep the darkspawn off of you. Shouldn't be too difficult, there seems to be a lot of warriors here, and Eloen is a natural archer.”

He flashed her a smile before looking back to the lad. He looked rather tense, his eyes darting between the large human warrior and the grey one. Colin had that effect on people sometimes, made them awkward and such with his slightly overbearing nature, but this lad hadn't seemed like the type to be one of those. He'd laughed almost hysterically over an opening question that Colin assumed a lot of mages would be insulted by after all.

“Hey, you alright? You look like you're already in a battle.”

Ansgar listened to the explanation that the Vashoth gave, as he stated that the Qunari of the lowlands would call the large man. Vashoth is not a term he had heard when he crossed paths with the followers of the Qun, but considering he did not identify with the Qun, preferring the tribes of the cold mountains, the Avvar, he suspected it was an exile of sorts, or perhaps one who had, while of the Qunari race, was born outside the Qun? He couldn't rightly tell either without asking, but he was in no position to be digging into another's personal business so readily. So, as Gereth finished speaking on the matter Ansgar inclined his head in gratitude for the plain answer to his question. There was something to be said for plain speech, it cut away the clutter and niceties of formal speech and gave a plain, unhindered view of what was said. Certainly a respectable way of presenting one self. "Then Gereth of the Avvar it shall be then, and no further into your personal business will I pry. You have my gratitude for the knowledge given."

"You tarry too long, there is killing to be done, enough with these niceties..."

The mental outburst from the daemons, unheard to the others, seemed to draw the gaze, slight as it may have been, of Ansgar to his left, like the irritated look of a custodian on the rude outburst of one under his lock and key. It would also likely send off a red flag for any of the mages present as to precisely where the fell, hungry fire that seemed to hang in the air originated from. Even the non mages could feel something off in the air, like something seeking to devour eternally was pressing on the air, likely an odd feeling to be felt, even on the precipice of a darkspawn Blight. Mages familiar with the spirits of the Fade might even identify that the feeling came from a Rage Demon's presence, though this would indeed explain the lack of wit and general deviousness in the creatures attempts to permanently subvert Ansgar. He forced the voices down again, harder than usual, the gloomy, dark expression on his face passing after a few moments, and he retained his silent vigil, watching over the tent to enact damage control on the demon's outburst, if need be.

Garlenn huffed, putting one ham sized fist on his hip, his other hand holding the massive axe resting over his shoulder. It seems everyone was now getting cozy with one another. Soon you'll have soft kisses behind tents, sweet nothings whispered in ears, and friendships powerful enough to last through this ordeal. How dramatic and touching, but it didn't serve to get them any closer to the BLEEDING DARKSPAWN.

....Oh well. Might as well mingle with the singles. The Lady Knight was surrounded and not going anywhere anytime soon. Seems it was right time for him to make some friends. And who wouldn't want to be Garlenn's friend? He was as charming as a prince and as handsome as a Dwarf could be. He chuckled at his inner sarcasm, and realized that one particular person in here didn't think him any bit charming. He raised a brow at the other Dwarf in here, checking her out for a moment, before shrugging and stepping over to Ansgar and Gereth.

"So, three warriors meet in a tent." he said. "If this entire meeting isn't a joke, then it might be a bit funny. So!" Garlenn placed the huge head of his Axe upon the ground and smacked his hands together. "What brings a Qunari and a brooding gentleman such as yerselves to this place?" he asked matter of factly. The Dwarf wasn't one to bandy words or be 'politically correct'. Avvar, Qunari, Vashoth, Man, Elf, Dwarf, cunt...didn't matter to him. He called them as he saw them, and killed who he needed to.

(crap wrong section)

"...Yeah..."

The words barely escaped his lips and to him, they were leagues away from him already. He had stumbled upon that eureka moment. That same one where you're trying to remember something for so long and then it finally comes to you. He was feeling something from the fade. It was a feeling he'd never likely forget and this, what ever it was, had been renewing that feeling of dread since the moment he had walked into the tent. there wasn't many a mage living that didn't know that feeling. It had grown to a soundless crescendo and for a moment her thought he might fall to the ground. Thankfully he was able to focus all his will to answering the questions laid before him and he saved himself, last moment, from toppling like an untied sack of potatoes.

"I-I mean to say, yes. Being so close to the darkspawn, and more then I've seen in my life all heaped together, is taking it's toll it would seem. It's something I'll learn to grow used to, I'm sure."

He resisted the urge to steal a glance at the man again then bowed quickly before the two of them, each individually.

"My name is Talon. Scholar, tinker, dabbler of the profane arts."

He created a small icicle between his two palms then pressed them together, causing it to disappear.

"It's wonderful to meet you both and I look forward to working with the two of you.

He turned to Colin and grinned widely.

"Please do make sure I'm not cut down in my prime! Though, I think you'll find this mage to have just a minocrum higher pain tolerance then you're run of the mill book worm. I've studied good and long the defensive arts and I tend to stray further into the mix then most of my kind would."

Once he had finished addressing Mr. Colin, he turned to Elone and tried his best to hold on to the outward disguise he was trying to hold against the dreadful emotion washing over him.

"Miss, I have spent some time amongst our kind. Both Dalish and city elf, though neither overly much. You don't seem to quite fit either bill..."

He paused a moment to take in to consideration the possibility that she might now want, at all, to talk of any of this.

"You are free to be as you'd like around me. If you can ever find the time. I'd like to discuss elven matters with a source that could possibly know more then I, not that it would be an overly hard task."

He shot her another soft smile and straightened his back against the growing discomfort. He would need to take a moment outside of the tent if he were to hold up his facade. He cleared his throat and began to walk to the front of the tent.

"I'm stepping out, just for a moment of air."

He hadn't really been speaking to anyone and the last few words seemed to catch in his craw a bit.