"I am a friend. For now you can call me Jean. True, that is not my name, but you could hardly expect me to give my name to someone I just met in a tavern on foreign ground. And I suppose it is useless for me to ask you your name?"
The stranger, or Jean as we should call him now, seemed to be feeling more comfortable now, or maybe it was the ale, but he tossed back his hood. His complexion was dark, with the front of his head shaved and a single long braid in the back as thick as a child's wrist falling down his back past his shoulders and disappearing down his cloak.
He glanced briefly in the direction of the blue-cloaked Elf-woman while putting out his pipe with his thumb before turning to face his companion.
|