The brown-haired mage had blocked out the other sounds of chatter and light conversation that spread throughout the tavern, keeping his gaze fixated on the door that lead outside. His face was expressionless, of which could be seen from behind his hands. Clearly he was concentrating on something, perhaps he was even waiting for something to happen? There didn't seem to be any air of worry or concern that seeped off him like a mist hanging over a bog. No, it was almost as if he had turned into a very lifelike statue. Only ever so subtle movements, adjusting the position of one of his elbows for example, was all  that he did. It even appeared that he remained unblinking for the longest amount of time.
[color=aqua][i]Come on... where are you?[/i][/color]
The mage had no business with anyone in the tavern as it stood, even failing to recognize the Shaven Headed Man from outside the city gates earlier in the evening. It was only when the barkeep was speaking to another patron closer to the mage's side of the bar did the young man finally blink out of his staring contest with the door and turn his eyes to the right to peer towards the barkeep, a couple of his words catching the young man's attention. Watching as the barkeep made his way back over towards the Shaven Headed Man and exchanged words while pouring a fresh drink, the mention of 'pit fighter' followed by 'Taru the Unkillable' were enough to fully distract the mage from the door.

[color=aqua]"They say that Taru the Unkillable would allow his opponent a free shot at him, for it was his way of judging the worth of his opponent."[/color]
The mage lowered his hands from before his face and placed his gloved hands upon the table neatly, folding one over the other. His eyes had lit up from earlier and his expressionless face had came back to life, a sly grin snaking it's way from ear to ear.
[color=aqua]"Others say that to punch the body or chin of Taru the Unkillable was equivalent of slamming their fist into a sheet of iron. He apparently moved with such speed and grace that for an instant, he would vanish from his opponent's view before delivering a devastating strike, usually ending the match. Only the highly skilled and dedicated were able to either withstand the first blow or to even cause damage to Taru the Unkillable."[/color]
The mage snorted and squinted his eyes at the Shaven Headed Man, looking hard at his face and trying to read him, but this was proving most difficult. Something was tickling the back of his mind about this fellow. Yes, he had recognized him now from the main entrance of Dalvestre, but there seemed to be something more to that, something deeper. Ignoring it for the time being, the brown-haired youth glanced back to the door for a second but swiftly returned his focus to the Shaven Headed Man and the barkeep.

[color=lightgreen]"Put a sock in it Yasuo. He said to keep your voice down!"[/color]
The barkeep grumbled at the boy before bowing his head slightly towards the Shaven Headed Man in apology. The mage just huffed and sat back in his chair, pushing the old creaking wooden furniture onto it's back legs where he rocked back and forth slightly, continuing to peer at 'Taru', if this even was him.
[color=aqua]"I wonder if you really are him... and what brings you to the home city of Gabriel Val M'ahr if you truly are, 'Taru the Unkillable'?"[/color]
[color=lightgreen]"That's none of your concern boy! Stop pestering my customers!"[/color]
The mage waved a hand to dismiss the barkeep and he frowned, looking back towards the door of the tavern once more. All of a sudden, the mage planted all feet of his chair back down and sat upright, alert. The door to the tavern swung open a couple of seconds later and in walked a simple looking civilian of the city, obviously no one of the higher standards. He was short, had hair he had cut himself and grew a thick mustache that hid his mouth entirely. As he lingered in the open door for a moment, the mage across the room stood up and flicked out his right arm, spreading his fingers as he waved his hand before him quickly. As he did this motion, a gust of wind blew from outside the tavern, rattling the windows and creaking the wooden walls. The door slammed shut hard, smacking this stranger in the rump which caused him to yelp and quickly waddle across the tavern to the mage's table where he sat down and tried to look as invisible as possible, to which he failed and made himself look very suspicious.

[color=a36209]"Ouch! W-what was that for?!"[/color]
His voice was middle aged, around 40 or so, and sounded like he had been gargling razor blades instead of water this morning. The green-eyed youth said nothing as he sat back down and watched the stranger carefully, his expression one of seriousness. The stranger quickly shut up upon noticing this and he sat down in silence. He looked very uncomfortable. Waiting for the silence to break within the tavern as the other patrons returned to their drinks and conversations, the mage glanced to the bar and signaled the barkeep.
[color=aqua]"An ale and a glass of water, please."[/color]
The mage got up from his chair and walked to the bar, tugging his 'cape' back from over his shoulder to form a cloak once more. As the barkeep turned away to get the order, grumbling under his breath about whether he'd get any money for this, the mage glanced at the Shaven Headed Man and sniffed the air about him lightly.
[color=aqua]"Hrm... you got any spare Root Sage on you? As you can see, my friend here is a little anxious and I need him to calm down for me. I'll pay if you need money."[/color]
He asked openly, watching the pit fighter with a much more soft and gentle expression about him then what he had shown the short stranger on moments earlier.