The Power of Charm

After the maid excused herself, Arvell began exploring the room.

A room like this was a foreign, yet nostalgic sight for Arvell.

He didn't quite like the all-silver colour scheme, but it looked elegant nonetheless.

Fitting for a duke's mansion.

He gently placed his bag on the floor and crashed on the bed in exhaustion.

Keeping up a facade in front of the Silvercolts was a tiring task, to say the least.

He would much rather train until he passed out than do this.

Unfortunately for Arvell, earning their support was fundamental for procuring his future in Elantrya.

After resting for a couple of minutes, he pushed himself back to his feet.

He wandered through the room, taking in the sights.

He ran his fingers along the surface of the drawer, feeling the hard ebony wood under his finger.

Looking at his finger, he smiled.

'Not even a speck of dust. However, for some reason, Silver and Ebony wood seem to be recurring quite frequently though.'