[color=7094DB]"The pleasure is mine, sir."[/color] Farrus politely replied as he shook Corvus's hand, their eyes meeting. Even as the youngest of the three shook that hand, he studied his fellow gentlemen with a masked distrust, a distrust tempered by years of witnessing the folly of men and the depravity of people and a distrust yet that was normal among men of reasonable wit. Venten knew the other two meant well by their demeanor, but one could never help but register the minutiae of others to spy some ugly trait that he was only privy to. A safety measure, not a form of spite.

A bump of the table interrupted Farrus's inner dialogue, and he immediately looked at the source with a briefly startled gawk that passed into a face of understanding. Venten, however, didn't say anything.

Lumos's hand also extended Farrus's way, and the gray-haired accordingly shook it. [color=7094DB]"Nay, no offense taken. It is nice meeting you, as well."[/color] he absolved Lumos of whatever mistake it was that impelled the older man to the apology. And then the display of lights, a curiosity in a formal meeting but nonetheless childishly enchanting. Farrus watched with delight. [color=7094DB]"How pretty! My name is Farrus Luminus Venten. I am an elementalist of the air. If it concerns the 9 winds, it concerns me as well."[/color]