Coming out of the temple and headed towards the tavern, the dark elf hums a Rican shanty while carrying his alchemical supplies which are mostly just a dirty apron with holes from acid drips, and a pack slung across his shoulder.
A sly smile stretched across Pelle's lips as he noticed his old compatriot walk through the door. He stands up from his table on the far side of the tavern and saunters over to where Correullus was sitting, before perching himself happily ontop of the table's surface. "Ah, Mr. Undertow. It's so good to see you again. I feel like you haven't seen me in ages!" the riven remarked, feigning a deep furrow of concern. "I suppose it's too be expected with all your do-gooding Paladin responsibilities now. How's that life still treating you? Good, I hope," he said innocently. He waved the barkeep down to bring a second glass for his wine he was waiting for.
The dark elf actually entertains a smile in the direction of his acquaintance. After his question about how 'that life' is still treating him, the small smirk descends into a rather apathetic expression. The dark elf sighs and replies, "Honestly, a leetle borin'. Dere ah no t'reats to us. We 'ave not travelled. All we 'ave been doin 'as been rebuildin dis town. Tis 'ard to keep mahself busy."
A waitress comes by and sets his tea and a warm pitcher in front of him, then proceeds to pour Pelle a glass if his chosen wine before retreating back to the kitchen area.
After taking a sip of his tea, he takes a moment to enjoy the first taste of it and indulge in the spices mixed in. "So, 'ow 'ave jour life choices been treatin joo?"
"Oh, it's been soo rough! I have never had to work so hard to keep up my appearances! There was opportunity around every turn in Rica, but here?" Pelle scoffs before taking a sip from his glass. "Since the whole Secronus cult thing, this town has seemed to become quite dull." He sighs as he looks down into his wine, a dark blood red from Rica. "Ever miss the old days Mr. Undertow? The new places and new faces. Especially the new faces..." He leans back as if to slip into distant memories.
The dark elf shakes his head at the nonsensical play on words made by his drinking companion. "Honestly, jes. I do. Quite a bit. But I acknowledge dat in time we must grow. Piratin' is not in me any mo. Und right now, I feel like a soldier durin peace time."
He adjusts in his seat a bit and takes a once over to glance around and see who else is in the tavern. "Right now, I feel like bein paladeen ees not enough. I like 'avin da ability to 'eal. But at da cost of my own essence? Someting is missin... I wan to leave town to find eet soon."
Pelle perked up at the sound of traveling again. "Wonderful! I do believe we are more than due for another little adventure. I say we return to Upper Metsar. Maybe a trip to Tarkalisis maybe?" The hopped down from the table watching his compatriot. "We shall leave tomorrow!" he exclaimed.
"Well, heh, I no t'ink jou wan' tag along where I am goin'. Al'doe dat depends I suppose. Joo make jour on choice." The dark elf noticing his mug is now dry, pours more hot water in, stirring the bag of spices up in it again.
"I plan to find my own way to administuh justice. Paladeenhood is somewhat of social stigma, 'avin to maneuver around da laws of da land in orda to do what is right feels like outlandish formality. As well meanin' as diplomacy is, subtle actions to sway favor are much more efficient." Then he turns his shoulders to face Pelle. "Plus, dere are dose not unlike jou--" He pokes Pelle on the chest. "--who try to use dere wits to get da upper 'and on us. I do not enjoy limitation, especially wit you workin against me."
The riven shrugs off Correlus's remark about gwtting an upper hand. "You can't blame somebody for just simply using the tools he was given. You might as well berate a fishermen for using a net. Sure, he could use a single harpoon at a time but that's not nearly as lucrative." He takes another sip of his glass, only enough to taste. "Now enough of this talk of 'Administuhing Joostace,'" he said, mimicing the elfs accent,"And tell me where you're thinking of heading already. You kknow I don't like being left out on little plans and what not."
The dark elf grows visibly annoyed with he's friend's jest.
"Eet's not as if you wuh not gettin used to it in da fuhst place... one way or anuddah." He stirs the bag of herbs in his mug. "I don know da best place ta go. But seence I will be studyin spiritual and light energy, I doubt you want ta be part of dat? Eet probably will be in Upper Metsah tho. Dat is where da Ordah of da Crystal Feest calls 'ome. But I'd radda find somewhere outside da ordah to learn about wieldin da prime."
The riven scoffed at his friend's plans. "Now, why would you want to go off and do something as silly as study more prime nonsense? I had such high hopes for you, Mr. Undertow. But I feel that you've changed." He shook his head, acting as if he was dissapointed. "Regardless, I suppose I should wish you luck and what not on your little journey of learning." He took another sip before setting what was left of his glass on the counter. "Bring me back a souvenir, eh?" he said before walking out the tavern.
The dark elf smirks, then laughs, "Souvenoir." Clearly he knows what Pelle had in mind for that. Before Pelle is fully out of sight, he throws his voice: "Da only ting in dis world bound to not change ees dat everyting is bound to change." The dark elf downs his drink too. Then rubs the tip of his finger along the rim of the empty mug before having an epiphany. "I should inform da rest of da ordah of my deparcha." Then get gets up, sets the saucer for the mug on top to symbolize that he is finished with it before gesturing to the barkeep, and leaves.
Minutes later the dark elf arrives at the tavern and walks up to the counter. With a gesture of "one" he asks for "Da usual." Then sets a few copper for the barkeep to collect and finds a seat at one of the tables, waiting for his beverage to arrive. His gaze aloofly veers out the window, watching the wind sway the branches of the trees; little brown leaves that are left dropping a little bit.