5 hours ago
![[Image: Zoradin01.jpeg?resize=674%2C1024&ssl=1]](https://i0.wp.com/thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/Zoradin01.jpeg?resize=674%2C1024&ssl=1)
Zoradin Fel, Asha'man
Zoradin rose at Xavier's command and followed the group through the keep. His eyes looked around, taking in everything - the banners and paintings on the wall. His ears listened for anything out of the ordinary. He wasn't worried at this point, but it was a habit and a good one to have - particularly in the Borderlands.
The door to the banquet hall opened and whatever conversations were going on silenced as the Lord of the Keep entered the hall. Everyone stood, saluting in the way of Borderlanders. This was the part Zoradin always hated. The announcement of his arrival to the keep. It wasn't that he felt unwelcome or dishonored to be here. It was the gazes afterwards that he wouldn't like. After the announcement, Zoradin's gaze moved over the crowd, but his eyes didn't meet the gazes of those watching. He had seen all of them - surprise, elation at his arrival, indifference, fear, hate. Given Xavier's reception of him, he doubted he would see a lot of the last two.
Xavier took his place and Zoradin awaited until the proper time to take his own, typically to the right hand of the host, waiting again before being seated. He did not speak, for it was not his place to speak. He sat stiff-backed and formal as ever. He moved his hands with slight uncertainty. He wasn't used to such formalities and different nations had different expectations. He had never really caught on. He finally decided to rest his wrists on the table as they waited for the meal proper to begin. Zoradin wasn't sure if he was allowed to speak yet, so when his gaze turned to Lord Xavier, he gave a nod of thanks before turning his gaze to Lord Kenta and repeating the nod.
The door to the banquet hall opened and whatever conversations were going on silenced as the Lord of the Keep entered the hall. Everyone stood, saluting in the way of Borderlanders. This was the part Zoradin always hated. The announcement of his arrival to the keep. It wasn't that he felt unwelcome or dishonored to be here. It was the gazes afterwards that he wouldn't like. After the announcement, Zoradin's gaze moved over the crowd, but his eyes didn't meet the gazes of those watching. He had seen all of them - surprise, elation at his arrival, indifference, fear, hate. Given Xavier's reception of him, he doubted he would see a lot of the last two.
Xavier took his place and Zoradin awaited until the proper time to take his own, typically to the right hand of the host, waiting again before being seated. He did not speak, for it was not his place to speak. He sat stiff-backed and formal as ever. He moved his hands with slight uncertainty. He wasn't used to such formalities and different nations had different expectations. He had never really caught on. He finally decided to rest his wrists on the table as they waited for the meal proper to begin. Zoradin wasn't sure if he was allowed to speak yet, so when his gaze turned to Lord Xavier, he gave a nod of thanks before turning his gaze to Lord Kenta and repeating the nod.

