Tamrik is my name, though it matters little. A name is only something to distinguish one person from another in this world. Tamrik's answer was cryptic, without any real thought. His melodic voice rang in the room though, and provided a calming sense of belonging in his heart.
Would that all could accept me for the person I am. What matters a name, when there is hatred based on religion, or lack there of. Tamrik thought to himself ruefully, a faint smile touching his beautiful features. He listened carefully to the information that the man gave out, caring only because it would get them away from this place sooner. He cared little for places of worship, having been forced into religion, and having been hunted for denying his heritage's 'truth.'
Elvish is not so uncommon a language among peoples in the realms. They must have something of extreme import to hide if they requested such a thing. What can you tell of this man, Zetroc? He seems more shady than my dark friend, and more overzealous with his entertainment than my large one. What could the true use of these women be, slaves? Sacrifice? Could they truly only want pleasure, I highly doubt it, old coins and a lot of them signal something bigger in my mind. Tamrik is worried about Delphine, she was not the weakest woman, but a woman she was. Tamrik may have allowed some black into his heart, but he was always a chivelrous man. Woman were to be treated with respect, and they needed a handsome savior. He thought smilingly.