[center][h2][b][color=20B2AA] Jandar Varan [/color][/b][/h2][h3][color=20B2AA]Ruined town[/color][/h3][/center]
[color=20B2AA]“Ah, so any Eyrien Warlord Prince would be viewed with open terror and/or hostility. I wasn’t aware, I admit,”[/color] Jandar admitted to Bellinar. From the corner of his eye, he checked on Fatima, but she’d not yet exited that one residential building she’d went to inspect. Surely, she would shout if something were the matter? The urge to check on her grew, but the Warlord turned back to the present conversation. [color=20B2AA]“Certainly, a Dea Al Mon is an exotic sight anywhere in Terreille,”[/color] he replied to Faeril, then turned to Mikhail briefly, [color=20B2AA]“But, Prince, have you not ever disguised your features during your travels?”[/color] the Warlord queried.

When that matter was cleared up, he focused on the Black Widow once more, pondering her suggestion. Playing the role of a husband to a Pruulish witch, was it? It was plausible, though he’d need to establish a basic story with Dareen regarding how they might have ‘met’ and ‘married’ and other such details. Even if no-one asked anything beyond their names and their status as a couple, it was better safe than sorry. Especially since the people might be mightily curious at such an odd matching; longer-lived races taking on a person from one of the shorter-lived races was a rarity for a reason.

After mentioning they should light no fires, Faeril suddenly glared at him. Puzzled, Jandar looked at her, then behind himself, where he could see the newer town off in a distance. [color=20B2AA]“Faeril? What’s the matter?”[/color] he asked gently, dearly hoping the woman would answer honestly. But she was a very reticent individual; he had the impression that she kept her troubles to herself, rarely revealing them to people she knew well (such as the brothers), never mind to [i]strangers[/i]. Sighing only within the privacy of his mind, Jandar waited for her answer, then approached Dareen.

The Pruulish woman seemed to find the notion of having to act as a rich girl outrageously hilarious, and Jandar offered her a crooked grin. [color=20B2AA]“Thankfully, you will not have to pose as a noble,”[/color] he uttered dryly. [color=20B2AA]“Only as a someone decently well-off. Once you…dress up, as it were, I suggest you resign yourself to keeping as silent as possible in town. We could pass you off as a demure lady, I suppose,”[/color] he drawled sarcastically. He was just teasing the witch, honestly. She seemed like the type that could take it in good fun, and possibly banter just as well in turn.

[color=20B2AA]“Truthfully though, the fact that I don’t have the common sense and knowledge of a Terreille native is much riskier,”[/color] the Warlord confessed. [color=20B2AA]“So, let’s try to establish a story that would make sense,”[/color] he suggested, [color=20B2AA]“with Faeril’s help,”[/color] Jandar nodded at the Black Widow to include her in the discussion. [color=20B2AA]“I could present as a son of an affluent merchant, who recently married his business associate’s daughter – that would be you, Dareen, so think of a profession that could get one rich in Pruul for your part of the story,”[/color] he gestured to the Pruulish witch. [color=20B2AA]“And now, my newly-wed wife and I are travelling Terreille as part of our honeymoon,”[/color] he finished proposing the key elements of their fictional backstory. 

[color=20B2AA]“If that sounds acceptable, then I’d only need to know what’s the easiest to make profit off of in Terreile,”[/color] Jandar added. Suddenly, he grimaced distastefully, and chose to add a clarification. [color=20B2AA]“And please, for the love of Mother Night, do not just say [i]slaves[/i],”[/color] he shuddered mildly, remembering the bloodied pens he’d seen in Terreille Dhemlan. He knew [i]those things[/i] had not only been used to hold animals; he was not naïve. Nonetheless, the fact that such things were practiced – and openly! – within parts of Terreille was…abominable beyond belief.