The battlefield, training his men, and romping in the hay with a beautiful woman. Connor was comfortable with any of those three activities, though he was a man who also definitely appreciated time in a tavern. After recent small trips which had lead him very close to mage territory, he’d had his fill of their delightful liquor which tasted as golden smoke. Things had gone back to their normal lull, his role still active despite whatever state of peace the realm was in. Scouting, maintaining security for the King, keeping an awareness to Immortal politics and affairs; he was engaged in a variety of ways, and it kept him occupied.

With a recent diplomatic meeting, however, he had been drawn close to the human King’s realm. Fortunately, talks had gone well, and no conflict had ensued when his charge finally departed back to the Immortal kingdom. He had escorted them back part of the way, before being granted permission to fall back to Cendra.

The bustling place was one he half expected to happen upon his sister in. After all, this was one of the last locations she’d bothered to contact him from. That was not to say he had exactly gone looking. He hadn’t written her. If such a meeting happened through chance, he might’ve appreciated a chance to see her. As it were, after a ride through the marketplace, collecting a few small things here and there for his return to the Immortal kingdom, he was content with himself. Needing to focus only on his own well-being, drifting as he saw fit – that was what had gotten him by for two and half millennia, leaving corpses in his wake.

When the sun began to fall, and the dusty marketplace gave way to closing stalls, the man had made his choice. Withdrawing to a most comfortable Inn, one of which the owner had very precociously declared a fine shipment of port had arrived at, Connor dutifully removed his tack from his painted mare, gathered his things, and settled into a room. If was only once everything was secured, and he was washed and changed into clean clothing – his hair still damp – that he made his way down to sample the port.

Certainly, he might’ve found the taste to immediately be better than it was. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t partook in a cup of his fancy palace wine in the confines of his room, as he had bathed. Brushing a gloved hand lightly through his hair, he raised the cup to his lips to indulge in another sip. It was then that his eyes briefly found those of a woman who seemed entirely tense for being in such a place. As if attempting to ease the tension slightly, he offered a small nod as he placed the cup back to the surface of the table.