Varian remained silent as he scanned the tavern, finally taking his shaded spectacles off and hanging them from his collar. He was, in fact, in his magically concealed form. Rather than a horrifying anatomy beneath his coat, he sported a shirt and a pair of breeches, with the physique of a man incredibly fit. Of course, this was hidden under his coat, so Lirath was hardly in a position to find out.
However, it couldn't be doubted that the patrons of the tavern seemed to revere Varian. Why wouldn't they? He was like a god to them, given his lineage. He approached Lirath's table, patrons and tavern staff alike bowing their heads as to not draw his ire. Through a series of gurgles and hisses, he commanded the bartender to serve them both drinks, and he took a seat across from Lirath.
"So, it seems both of us are more than we appear. Perhaps we've... gotten off on the wrong foot?"
