[Serion D'Rinishad]

Serion had eyed the chair next to Graham when Duncan had decided to sit. He was indeed a bit unsure of what to think of this person before him. Just as Serion seemed to have many identities of his own, this one-time companion of his seemed to have multiple identities as well. Faltering for but a moment, Serion moves to the cushioned seat and leans back, breathing in slowly. He had learned over the past few confusing months that calming breaths seemed to clear his mind and let him focus on the task at hand. This particular task, of course, was listening to what Duncan had to say.

Eyes intent on Duncan as the man spoke, Serion tried to picture the events that had taken place. Nothing was coming to the dark elfs mind, but nonetheless he wanted to have Duncan's version of what had transpired. The name Faust did indeed bring a glint of recognition to Serion's eye, having been the main reason he came to Aelyria Prime in the first place. As far as a face, however, Serion's mind only sent shadows of a dark elf, face in shadows, or back to him. Never a feature to stand out in the swordsman's mind.

Listening on, Serion nods his head to the words that Duncan speaks, mentally agreeing that anyone that suddenly grew tentacles on their face and attacked their friends was not the same person. The fact that Duncan had mentioned that one of these creatures had almost wiped out the three adventurers made Serion wonder how powerful had the three been. Surely this was meant to be a measure of immense power. Had Serion truly been what rumors had been telling him since his time in Imperia? What kind of people were Duncan and Faust...and even these creatures that had nearly destroyed them all?

Shaking his head as Duncan finishes, Serion decides that it's his own life he needs to worry about, and not the lives of others--even if they do connect to his in some way. Letting his head come to a stop as he focuses his own thoughts, Serion keeps a steady gaze at the mystic. "I'd like to say your story brought back memories...terrible memories of loss, exillerating memories of action. I would be lying if I said that though." Leaning forward, placiong his forearms on his thighs as he clasps his hands together, Serion turns his eyes from Duncan and stares at the floor. His eyes study the carpetry, how the table and chairs rest, and how shadows play out across the floor.

A moment passes before the vysstichi speaks again, and even Graham had stopped drinking to look at the older friend in his silence. [color="palegreen"]"I had already run into a woman in Imperia, named Sakura--at an Inn. She was the first person to tell me about myself. How I was an arrogant man, quick to anger, and quicker with a blade. Yet, I was also a practitioner of holy magics? This doesn't make any sense to me. I find it hard to believe what people say of me. It seems almost surreal."/COLOR]

Raising his head up, Serion returns his eyes to those of Duncan. "I've learned that a man is made up of what he has done, and what he plans on doing. Whether I was a pious man of great deeds, or a villanous deciever, I need to live with the choices I had made. There was obviously a reason for my path, and if I have made enemies or friends for choosing...well then what good does it do me now."

Chuckling, Serion leans back in his chair again, a bit more comfortable having gotten some things off his chest. "I've had people try and kill me on the streets, and I took them down like they were flies. I look at this child, and I feel compassion, as though he were my son, or closest friend. I need to know who and what I was, and whatever I learn I can deal with after the fact." Falling silent, not knowing what else to say, Serion's thoughts drift around some of things that Duncan had mentioned about the expedition in the south. He had mentioned that Serion was no longer himself...that he had tentacles growing from his face.

Maybe I can ask Graham about that day he found me...maybe it was me...that thing that had destroyed his village...