"Have an ale, my friend!"
Kaldir looked up to discover that he had been joined at his table by the Ranger who had carried the injured southern lady up the stairs some minutes earlier. He smiled benignly with the good half of his scarred face and gestured to an empty chair. "Only if you will have a seat, my friend," he answered.
Silvanis nodded his acceptance and sat down, placing himself deliberately between Kaldir and the closed upstairs door of Benia Nightshade. Kaldir noticed this, but failed to show any reaction other than to set aside his empty tankard and take the full one offered by his new companion. Taking a sip of ale, Kaldir studied Silvanis' face. There was something familiar about the man, as though Kaldir might have been acquainted with him at one time, many years ago. In another lifetime, perhaps, he thought to himself. He still remembered things and events from before but not clearly. It was as though he was seeing them through the halflight of dusk, rather than the full light of day. Faces, especially, were difficult for him to remember.
"I am called Kaldir," he said by way of introduction, his pale blue eyes watching Silvanis closely for even a flicker of recognition. "And I thank you sincerely for your hospitality," he added raising his mug. "The Green Dragon is renowned for the quality of its ale."
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