[center][h1][color=darkgray]Rinx[/color][/h1][/center]

Again, the pleased expression crossed the moon elf's delicate features as she gave a slight nod and grin. Though Rinx wasn't a historian, Valna was a face he wore fondly, and valued what her ancestry could have been should she exist. Technically, she did, but the complexities of identity were not something his people thought too much on. They simply [i]were[/i]. Some discarded faces with extravagance, and others were much more frugal. Rinx, if asked, would say he were somewhere between. If anyone were to ask, and he'd been feeling up to telling the truth, he quite liked his own visage when outside of the confines of society. 

But, as he wasn't given that freedom at present, he wore the much more socially appealing elven skin. And as luck had it, found patrons in the hall to which found Valna favorable. This tiefling had been a nice end to his evening, he mused. [color=darkgray]"Yes, it is so. But, sir, what better way to measure greatness - or notoriety, in some cases - if not reflected in the age of a story that continues to carry on?"[/color]

It was a rhetorical question, and she was not interested in keeping the tiefling, perhaps indicated in the departing bow of her head. [color=darkgray]"If you are by chance here on morrow evening, I'd delight in parting you from more of your silver for another tale or two, but now I must rest. Good evening, sir."[/color]