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Fyra
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Eleforian Elite Guard
Ryana smiled at the chatty elf. The trait was somehow slightly endearing. She supposed that when one was alone except for a bird, they would have to become talkative, to keep from going mad. In the bustle of the city, there were so many people it was almost like going mad in a different fashion: from too much noise. Idly, the woman thought about fate for a moment as the man continued on. It is indeed a fickle thing...and it does not work by giving those what they deserve... If it did, the children in the street would not steal to eat, and the rich would perhaps be a bit less so.

Her eyes followed him as he started to stand, ready to help him if he needed it. "Father Bran will appreciate what help we can give him. He does not have many brothers in this temple, though I believe that the loyalty of those who come here is what keeps this place going." She was relaxing a little, the constant chatter and the familiarity of the sanctuary letting her let her tough guard down for the moment.

Bran could be heard muttering in the other room just barely.
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Lost... So to Speak... · City Randatria


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