Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24685738-20170813151003/@comment-5543592-20190607014948

"Never lower your guard." Taeris said, standing up. "Even when your opponent appears defeated."

Hirri led them down the hall, further into the manor, where they entered a pantry. An older man was there, a quisical look on his face, joined by a boy who appeared to be sixteen or so. Both wore fine looking clothes, handsome doublets tucked into expensive trousers, and were without shoes. They appeared to have been bedding down before the door had been busted in. They were both of average height and build, with long, delicate faces, similar in appearance. The older man was likely Fattah, the boy his son.

"Who are you people?" Fattah demanded, puffing up, although it was hard to look distinguished as he leaned over the island of his kitchen. The room itself was quite lavish, and likely had been home to many a feast. It was similar in appearance to any other noble's larder. "How dare you barge into my home like this!" His noble brow line was tight, his eyes angry at the insult that had been done to him.

"It's only a game." Silas said, unsure what Arctus meant. "The best games are played drunk."