Vyzel had had his time to inspect [i]The Warped Nail[/i]. That included counting the leaks in the ceiling which were betraying themselves by letting water go through in large driplets here and there. The discolored wooden floor told a story about the longevity of the situation, but nontheless the slayer found himself hungry and thirsty enough to dare and try out what the tavern had to offer. After all the good thing about a [i]warm[/i] meal was that warmth had no real quality. It either was there or it was not there.

It happened so that an impressively large plate was standing by for the man to pick the next spoon full of soup out of it. It was accompanied by a mug of beer, but Vyzel could already tell that it was a rather weak beverage of which he'd need a very large lot to impair his capability of concentrating. He had no intentions to try it out though, the situation at hand was much too grave for this. While he was sitting here and waiting, that dragon -- if it really existed -- could already be busy making the task of finding and killing him a lot more difficult than he imagined it already to be. He was suffering from a complete lack of experience with regard to this business and that made him even more tensed up because... What amount of knowledge would his future partner bring with her ? Would she know so much more about dragons that he'd completely embarrass himself even before they got underway ? Vyzel knew that she was a Sylvari -- one of the people who had the privilege of starting into their lives with a given purpose even if it was only some kind of dream. Yet the slayer caught his drifting thoughts in time for not delving too deeply into the subject and slipping away from here and now.

The door was opened, someone was coming in. Vyzel had never had a chance to see Eliza La Chev beforehand, but several aspects about her told him immediately that she had to be it: She was a Sylvari. Her equipment appeared to be of extraordinary quality (though... what did [i]he[/i] know about necromancy ?) and she appeared to know whom she was looking for herself since she didn't hesitate much to find her way into his rather lonely corner. She sat down so silently that Vyzel had to smile. His chair continued to protest against a load way beyond its original design limits with every move he made and so did now as he was offering her his open hand.

[color=yellow]"Welcome to Muria. I'm Vyzel, Order of Whispers."[/color] As if to underline the name of his employer, Vyzel spoke out things very lowly. What they were about to discuss was of no concern to anyone else around here. So he leaned forwards and let the table support his massive elbows while looking at his soup. It wasn't disinterest. It was a facade meant to distract the other he hoped she'd immediately recognize as such. However... it did also move himself a bit out of the way of her cold breath. It was spooky for him despite the fact that he'd been given an advance warning about her being a necromancer. Sitting right next to one, especially such a powerful one, was a story of its own. [color=yellow]"I've got enough supplies with me that it should suffice for both of us, just in case your journey was too long to bring many things along from your own homeland. Also there's a spare horse you can use if you want. So... where do we start ?"[/color] It was a question deliberately kept vague. He wouldn't admit it, but perhaps Eliza would reveal how much she knew about dragons by herself this way.