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His dress was a carefully controlled facade. His trollskin leather armour was slightly battered and torn, just enough to imply a career in combat but not enough to show a man who could not maintain his kit. A bizarre curved sword hung from his waist, in truth more for show than anything else. His two gauntlets with shining and deathly sharp claws were more dangerous and hung from the frontof his belt. Strong military boots of fine leather and a cloak showing the sigil of his family, the two bears clutching an axe on a purple and black background was prominent. A silk eyepatch covered his left eye but did not cover the scarring on that side of his face. He was attractive but his scars and his very nature that oozed from him detracted from it. A bandaged left arm and a silken gloved right completed the man.
H moved into the bar with no attempt at subtlety, his chin was raised and his full frame, well over six feet in height was shown. Slowly he eyed Faust and his mouth was for a moment tugged at its extermities by invisible wires, a half smile at best. Before he moved over and introduced himself he moved to the bar and extended a smile and a hand to the barman. A flash of gold was in the hand and the barman took it readily, a collection of surly reprobates were soon gifted with a free drink. Dimitri himself was gifted with a particually potent whisky shot, which he took in one gulp. A momentary look of intense displeasure came over his face, but it amused and buoyed those at the bar.
Dimitri had planned this move, if things became nasty these aggreived drunks owed him a favour, and would stumble onto the swords of the dark elf. Fleshy sheilds to protect their Lord. How glorious subtle manipulation was. Finally he turned his eyes to his rival, or a rival he reasoned, the other name they spoke about in his city. Forget Amber Brightwing and her pointless policies and croneyism, Dimitri respected the dark elves. They wer vital to Vortex but Dimitri had heard things, this one mixed with Imperials and Senators, mingled with the good and the bad.
He pulled a chair out at the table, removing the glove from his right hand. Faust might see a number of rings, two at least were notable. One showed the same insignia as the cloak set into a jade stone, the other was the sigil of the church of the faith. What it was doing on the finger of such a man was seemingly a mystery.
"I am Dimitri Vladovic Uppenheim Wladisyaw, Duke of this city and last of my name. You are Faust D'Rinishad of the first house of the lower city and seemingly the most equipped of your......numerous family." His guards and personal experience had turned up a few of his kind recently. Always a weakness if one was strong, to have weaker relatives or loved ones running about. Dimitri had Anora and he hid her away from his enemies as best he could. "I apologise," his voice was almost a growl at this point as though he had constructed an image of a threatening warrior and would not break it yet, "I have little experience of your house Kitrye’veresi, your Matron is the only one unknown to me. By no act of fate nor bestowal of gifts have I gleaned an audience with her, you shall have to apolgise on my behalf." He smiled and decided to probe gently, "I have heard of you Faust D'Rinishad, you are the day and the night, neither of your people or apart from them. Between worlds, I have given away my world and embraced myself with yours, do you find that amusing? Can you judge someone by their race?"
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