Arcturus didn't come back to the dining hall immidatly, he spent a good several long minuted scrubbing himself clean and soaking in the hot springs, and then drying out his long hair in his room before he came back down stairs again.
He came back down the stairs he was dressed differently - it was warm in the inn, and so he'd forgone all his layers for the sorts of clothes he would wear inside, at home. He had a pair of long pants under a long flowing robe that came down near to his knees and was open in the front, the sleeves cane to his knuckles, and underneath he wore a thin shirt. All of it was spun of an expensive looking fabric with a slimier sheen and weight to silk. It was an almost silvery-lavender color and though the color might look feminine to some people, the cut of it didn't give any hints to gender - except that it made it very clear that Arcturus was flat chested.
No longer weighed down by all his gear - which he had moved under with ease - Arcturus moved with both grace and speed that were too great for mortals to match. Smaller movements were much faster than larger ones, almost creating a blur, and all of his movements held an almost unreal looking fluidity to them. Now spotless, and free of all the grime of the road, Arcturus' skin nearly glowed - like alabaster or ivory, even his platinum blonde hair seemed almost to shimmer in the flickering light of candles and fire. People took note of the tall, slender, but powerfully built man as he made his way threw the room into a quiet corner table.
When Imogen came round to serve him he asked for a double portion of meat and no bread, and he gave her his thanks when she brought it out to him. He took his meal quietly, with a cup of water, because Starstriders were very sensitive to alcohol. He was quiet, pleasantly enjoying his solitude in the bustling room, when a fight broke out between a couple of drunk men.
Imogen and her bother went to intercede when the fight started, but quickly found themselves outnumbered, as it seemed both parties had friends present. He moved like a blur or white light across the room. Heads turned, people he passed felt the breeze he kicked up, and then he came back into focus, suddenly still and right between the opposing parties. He blocked a blow that was not meant for, but would have impacted Imogen if he hadn't.
Arcturus hit the offending sailor square in the solar-plexus with a flat outstretched palm. The burly man wheezed, and toppled to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. The norther giant moved, with equal parts grace and viscous precise movements, making short work of all of the brawlers. None of them would find themselves permanently injured though - bruses and busted egos mostly.
