[center][color=crimson][h2]Xandar Markov[/h2][/color][/center]

[color=crimson][center]Location: In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador[/center][/color]

After hundreds of years on the battlefield, as well as living on his own, Xandar has done a lot of cooking in his time. Mostly for himself, but when he did have his own group of outcasts for a while, he did cook then sometimes. He mostly made other people do it for him, but, lately he never really had anybody to cook for him. When you were on the run, it was much safer to feed yourself than to go to a tavern for food. Besides, the meals tended to be overpriced and under cooked. When he assessed the cooking situation he shook his head, chuckling a bit. Bellinar had not a clue how to cook. But, he probably never did the cooking with these guys around.

Xandar has vanished his clothes, wearing a simple jet black apron, holding around his neck and tied in the back. It was tight, and didn’t cover much, considering he wore nothing underneath. It was more comfortable that way. As he started to prepare the meal, getting ingredients out, measuring them, adding necessary spices, it was clear the Warlord Prince knew what he was doing. Cooking had turned to be... one of his only non-violent hobbies, and he was good at it. The thick roast had been chopped up a bit, salted, with a glaze on it about to be carmelized. In a different pant he sautéed onions and peppers, only with some potatoes he had chopped. All of this floating with telekinesis as he hummed to himself, summoning and vanishing things rapidly. 

He half listened to the conversation between the two brothers, not wanting to get in the middle of it, nor caring really. At least somebody was on his side though! He puffed up his chest proudly, nodding. His fellow Eyriens surely understood, it was the natural instinct in them. He could always count on his fellow man. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all, seeing them in combat as well as their usefulness off the battlefield. Although, it seemed Bellinar had been off with some women last night. 

Xandar’s mind wandered, as it had been a long time since he himself had been with a woman. Although, the women in his group would not suffice at the moment. Dareen hated him after their... unfortunate meeting, which was a bit more rude than usual. Faeril was... Faeril, which was a handful in her own right, even if she was quite the catch. The most likely of the three, a fellow Eyrien. And there was his Queen, whom, he seemed to fall out of favor with ever since that last battle... And more so now, considering that man in the black that she had met. He could tell in her eyes, the way she spoke to Xandar now. She didn’t even look at him the same. That made his blood boil, oh how he wanted to rip that man apart after touching his Queen...

Xandar noticed he had bent one of the pans completely in half as he stopped, sighing. There was no use taking out his anger on his cookware. His job was a thankless one, and even if she hated him, even if the others in the group did too, he still needed to protect her and her people. Whatever the cost. 

Vanishing the abused pot, he turned to see the Sceltie scampering around the campfire while he was cooking. He didn’t pay the dog much mind, simply confusing on with his cooking and humming before pausing, looking at the Sceltie who had made himself at home nuzzled against him. This dog... troubled him less than the boy, as long as it didn’t cause any trouble. But he raised an eyebrow when it started talking, and his mouth nearly dropped when it summoned several cooking supplies. Did it just... what?

Well, maybe he wasn’t such a bad dog after all, if he was this useful. And if he could vanish things for them and summon then while they were traveling? Oh that would be very useful indeed. Maybe he’d keep this one, as long as it didn’t cause too much trouble. Although, Xandar had failed to realize get that all this stuff was theirs to begin with, the sceltie had just planned on stealing all of it earlier.

[color=crimson]”It’s not burning, it’s cooking, mutt. It makes it taste better. If you wait, I’ll prove it to you. And if you keep bringing me stuff like this, there’s more food in it for you.”[/color]

Before he got to say anything more he saw the dog bolt for building where Faeril was sleeping, and god help that poor dog. It would be dead in 7 seconds or less if it woke Faeril. Although she had woken him up earlier... maybe he would put a shield around the dog so he would be safe. Let the poor bastard tromp around on the Widow. Oh, that would be a sight, he smirked evilly. Although, it seemed Dareen had beat the dog to the punch, and instead was playing fetch with it. Huh. 

[color=crimson]”I’m surprised you didn’t stab it, Dareen. Maybe you do have a soft side after all. Somewhere in there. Did a boy fancy you in that dress?”[/color] He teased, actually referring to her by her name. If she had kept up with them this long, then he was more inclined to trust her and give her some respect. Even so, he wasn’t above teasing the woman as he continued to hum to himself while cooking, the roast close to being done. It smelled amazing! A few last minute preparations and it would be complete!