Mezdon Hadirial
Mezdon’s offer was met by the gaze of the man’s mask. While he couldn’t see his face, Mezdon could feel his eyes make direct contact. The short tension was broken by a small laugh from Beringer who dismissed Mezdon’s suspicions, claiming he had no interest in fighting as it was his way of living. He moved on to let Mezdon ponder the offer to join Alicia in forming a real group of demon hunters. It was awfully tempting. Roaming the country fighting demons. but again he preferred the freedom of wandering alone.
Then things got heated. The once in distress girl pulled a sword on the glowing eyed Stormbringer. He set his glass down and put his hand on the hilt of his own blade; didn’t want to be caught off guard if things got ugly. Strangely, this didn’t seem to phase anyone. Not even the other Stormbringers moved to help their comrade.
Realizing the situation was getting out of hand, Alicia backed down and Alistair swiftly left the premises; the show was over. Removing his hand from his sword and going back to his glass Mezdon was able to get a second look at Susanna, specifically her sword. He recognized the crest on the hilt, even if he didn’t only a fool would miss that it matched the crest on the royal guard's sword.
”Now where did she get that?” he wondered to himself. Clearly these two didn’t know each other, therefore they
both couldn’t be royal guards. She could have known someone or come across a deceased guardsman, but blades that were strictly to be used by those under the service of the king. Though laws like that weren’t exactly enforced anymore, many still honored codes such as that. It’s why he buried his grandfather’s sword with him rather than take it on his journey.
As interesting as this was, Mezdon couldn’t help but think about the yellow eyed man in the armor and how he had turned water into… something. He hadn’t met another magic user other than himself and Donden and was eager to discuss the arcane with another user. Setting enough coin on the table to pay for his drink he finished what was in his glass but took it and the bottle with him.
It had started raining now, while not too heavy it was enough that anyone would rather have shelter than stay in this weather. This was especially true in Mezdon’s case as his demon mark sizzled with steam as any drop of water that hit it simply vaporized from its heat. Moving quickly he found Alistair and his friend asking about why he fought with them rather than the real Stormbringers. Hearing Alistair simply brush off the question, Mezdon decided to chime in.
“They hurt us so we hurt them, that’s all there is too it eh?” Mezdon sat down next to Alistair and poured himself another glass. “Funny how we don’t look for reason anymore isn’t it? Demons terrorize our lands yet we never stop to ask ourselves why? Is this simply a game to them, or is there something to gain? Or more importantly, is there something here they fear? You would think after all these years we would know, but alas how could we when our soldiers can’t even explain why they fight. How can we know our enemy if we don’t know ourselves? And if we don’t know our enemy, how can we expect to win?” he sipped from his wine hoping his words were strong enough to make an impact on one so armored.