[Center][U][B]Collab between WitchChild and Rtron (Haklo Desol & Althalus Marik)[/B][/U][/Center]

Althalus finished his breakfast before deigning to acknowledge Haklo. Simply because of the family symbol on his left side. Desol. Rulers of Port Slaughter. In the Port, he would have stopped anything he was doing to avoid offending one of them. Here? Here he could do as he pleased. It was just too tempting to let slide by. Leaning back in his chair, the assasin raised an eyebrow at Haklo. "You know, most people begin conversations with, 'hello', 'how are you', and, this is my personal favorite, 'What's your name'. Of course, the Desol's aren't used to speaking with their subjects. In answer to your question, Noxomancy. Specifically, shadows. How can I help you? Besides being pumped for information, that is." 

He smiled at the noble, clearly enjoying himself. After all, it wasn't every day you got to talk to the nobility of Port Slaughter without being found dead within the next hour. He would know, Haklo's father had hired him(mask on) to do just that more than a few times.

Haklo arched his eyebrow at the man. It wasn't exactly what he had expected for him to say. He then remembered who he was. He was the masked fellow, the one from the festivites that he deduced was also from Port Slaughter. He refrained himself from lashing out at the man and instead retained his composure. "Apologies. Seeing that we both are here, knowing which blood other people possess gives me a bit of their profile. I am Lues as well, Psychomancy to be precise" He said to the assassin with all the courtosy of a noble gentleman, even though he wouldn't lose a minute of sleep traumatizing the assassin with a well placed psycho attack. "I see that you are familiar with the Desol House. And you are?" he asked. He wasn't going to play any games with this one, at least not his game. 

Althalus chuckled. "A profile eh? I wouldn't trust that completely. I happen to know a Pyromancer who is deathly afraid of flames. As you can imagine, he doesn't really use his blood all that much. Psychomancy. Have fun learning from Satori. She seemed quite....charming." He refrained from putting sarcasm into that statement. There was only so far being safe inside the College walls would get him. And who knew how much like the Desol Family a Psychomancer could be. At the mention of his familiarity, Althalus snorted. 

"You'd have to be a fool not to be familiar with the Desol's in Port Slaughter. After all, having wolves for sheperds makes a man nervous. As for who I am, I'm Marik. My father was a tavern owner by the name of John Marik, before he, my mother, and most of my siblings were slain for some crazy cultist ritual and the tavern was burned down. Unsurprisingly, all the loyal patrons just moved to another Tavern, and the 'guards' just made sure the mess didn't spread. All in all, just another day in the Port."

Haklo listened to the blonde man with seeming interest which wasn't far from the truth. He was interested but not in any friendly way. He was documenting, filing everything he learned about the man, what he said and how he said it. His icy blue eyes also took note of any casual gestures and the man's attire. "Well, Althalus Marik. I must say I wasn't expecting another from Port Slaughter and one very intuned with the understanding that it has." He said to the man in a respectful tone. He intentionally said the man's first name dispite the fact he wasn't given it. He remembered it from the other night, when he and the she-elf, Auriel, had been exchanging pleasantries. He got the impression that the shorter man might know a bit more about the Desols than he might be leading on, an rather interesting nut to crack. 

Althalus raised both eyebrows at the use of his first name. "My, my. Aren't we informed?" He commented, putting his fork down in preparation to leave. He had never really liked the Desols. They did too little to actually turn Port Slaughter into something that didn't have a murder every night on the slow nights. "Everyone from Port Slaughter is in tune with how it works. Whether they run it, use it, or just try to live with it. Now, I must bid you farewell. I need to explore a little more, maybe be able to find my way through the College without havingt to ask the help of a rather surly Gargoyle." With that, the assassin left, putting up his plate and walking out the dining hall.

Haklo arched his eyebrow at the assassin and watched him leave while finishing up his meal. He had seen the sort of behavior that the blonde man had projected, a sort of dislike towards not him personally but what he was. This wasn't at all uncommon in the noble courts and Haklo had his share of them in the past. Apparently this Althalus had a dislike towards the Desol family which Haklo could understand from a citizen of the Port. Most didn't know how much the Desols were truly involved with the everyday life of the Slaughter streets but Haklo himself didn't like how his fathers had handled it. 

The nobleman stood up from his seat and left the dining hall a while after Althalus. He decided to look for something to learn about. Other students, teachers, staff and the overall layout of the collage proper. He walked at a brisk pace to look for other people to converse with and study. He'd need to establish alliances and pacts.