While Irahl's attention is divided, Seth deals with a last few points of business with the others. He can be overheard asking Jandru if they have everything that they need for tomorrow, then he speaks quietly with Finn while Jandru climbs back into the carriage to be driven home. Before long, the driver is directing the bird-driven vehicle away again, and Finn has disappeared somewhere in the direction of the house. Seth and Irahl are left alone again at last.
Seth doesn't engage immediately. He watches the carriage go, hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword (which could easily be misconstrued as on-guard posture, but it's actually one of his more casual positions--his dominant hand just seems to find its way to his sword when he isn't preoccupied with work). Then, he seems to regard his own garden as well for a few moments, before he finally focuses in on Irahl.
"This is my home," he explains, just in case this fact was not already crystal clear to the other man, "While you are my guest in this city, I will extend the use of its grounds to you as well, on the condition that my privacy is respected. Do not overextend this hospitality to anyone else."
While he doubts Irahl is the type to bring friends over, he does want to specify that this isn't a place you could, say, stash a fugitive or try to lose the cops in. Who knows, maybe Irahl shares his brother's penchant for barging in and touching all of his stuff. In either case, his space is important enough to him that he doesn't want the terms of this arrangement to be muddled by false assumptions.
Assuming that his warning has been received, he opens the gate and leads Irahl into the more-private half of his personal grounds. To the right, his house, a three-story building with a relatively small floorplate for what is essentially a mansion. Most of it sits inside the protective dome, except for the third floor--about half of which sits outside the dome, exposed to the desert air.
To the left, a path leads up to a training ground of some kind. It's not as big as the arenas Irahl has been frequenting lately, but it's large enough for private practice. Large, wisteria-covered sandstone pillars surround the smooth sandstone floor. For all that this area seems to be going for grandeur, closer examination shows that it has been used a lot; chop marks are visible on the interior sides of the columns, there are old chalk lines and written measurements half-faded here and there on the ground, and the floor itself is just slightly uneven in places, as if worn down with time and ceaseless repetition.
no subject
Seth doesn't engage immediately. He watches the carriage go, hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword (which could easily be misconstrued as on-guard posture, but it's actually one of his more casual positions--his dominant hand just seems to find its way to his sword when he isn't preoccupied with work). Then, he seems to regard his own garden as well for a few moments, before he finally focuses in on Irahl.
"This is my home," he explains, just in case this fact was not already crystal clear to the other man, "While you are my guest in this city, I will extend the use of its grounds to you as well, on the condition that my privacy is respected. Do not overextend this hospitality to anyone else."
While he doubts Irahl is the type to bring friends over, he does want to specify that this isn't a place you could, say, stash a fugitive or try to lose the cops in. Who knows, maybe Irahl shares his brother's penchant for barging in and touching all of his stuff. In either case, his space is important enough to him that he doesn't want the terms of this arrangement to be muddled by false assumptions.
Assuming that his warning has been received, he opens the gate and leads Irahl into the more-private half of his personal grounds. To the right, his house, a three-story building with a relatively small floorplate for what is essentially a mansion. Most of it sits inside the protective dome, except for the third floor--about half of which sits outside the dome, exposed to the desert air.
To the left, a path leads up to a training ground of some kind. It's not as big as the arenas Irahl has been frequenting lately, but it's large enough for private practice. Large, wisteria-covered sandstone pillars surround the smooth sandstone floor. For all that this area seems to be going for grandeur, closer examination shows that it has been used a lot; chop marks are visible on the interior sides of the columns, there are old chalk lines and written measurements half-faded here and there on the ground, and the floor itself is just slightly uneven in places, as if worn down with time and ceaseless repetition.