Solurion growled at the suggestion that he would not help an innocent traveler fallen victim to some strange misfortune. What nerve this man had, questioning the integrity of a mer who had served Auri-El for centuries. As he finished his final prayer, the old elf sat up, faded eyes scanning the undead aura before him. “I took vows when I became a healer in the Temple of Auri-El: to aid all as well as I am able, and to serve our greatest ancestor faithfully,” he said, his voice as frigid as the snow drifting down from the hazy winter sky. “Though I was never as… zealous as my brothers and sisters, I take those promises very seriously.”
The light from the vampire’s hands faded, leaving them burning and uncomfortable; still, it was a small price to pay to protect these people from necromancers who would have taken advantage of their misfortune. He winced as he pulled a pair of gloves from his satchel and slipped them on before turning back to the stranger. “Sound and magic, actually,” he said simply. “I have never had the most keen sense of smell, though my affliction has helped.” There was no reason to admit that his Ayleid heritage helped with his vision— not to a total stranger, certainly. “What brings you this way, then, if not hunting?”
The vampire lord knelt still, clad adversely in his dark kilt and armor before his stark white surroundings, but just as frozen - however wary of any new vampires to cross his path, Rowan couldn't deny a budding trace of respect for this mer, whether that managed to come across in his terrible red gaze, or no.
All he knew of the Temple of Auri-El, its Knights, and its Prelates, had come from Gelebor decades ago. Maybe there was something to learn from this new acquaintance.
"If that is true, then our priorities have something in common," he muttered.
The question posed of him wrought reluctance. The smell of blood wasn't consistent with his professions of good deeds, but it wasn't his main calling at the moment. He'd strayed course to make sure no one in the cavern had died. Unfortunately he was too late.
"Magic," he reiterated with some surprise, rising up to his feet. "I've never heard of such a thing being useful for direction. Probably because I'm shite with it."
A steady breath, and then the truth.
"I'm searching for someone... a trusted companion of mine. She disappeared without a word, years ago. I ken not the reason. Futile it may be for my stubborn heart to hope... it is not in me to give up and leave her to an unknown fate."