PM to join [The Spinning Coin] I. The Stage And The Players

[Razkar]

“My name is Solin Valhir, and I am a hunter. I heard you are hiring mercenaries, so how much for the job?”

Myri's Blood, did everyone ask about this job?!

Yet another figure approached the now-crowded table, already surrounded by Myrian, Kelvic, human and... whatever those two transparent girls were. Razkar looked up and saw yet another human, and despite the groaning outburst he heard inside his skull, he had to admit... this one looked promising.

Tall, pale like the female that arrived before him, clad almost completely in leather that had been treated, tanned and hardened into passable armor. A curved sword was at hi belt, and a bow across his shoulder. His manner was polite, reserved... but his teeth...

When he smiled, Razkar was inexplicably reminded of that massive barbarian hound that Tinnok had rescued after an ambush.

One like a cat, one like a dog. I'm recruiting a circus.

"You hear good," he said quietly, filling his pipe one more time, carefully lighting the fresh tobacco on the burning embers of the old, "And you get answer on money when rest get here. Until then..."

Razkar's foot lashed out under the table and kicked a chair towards the young... human? He seemed uncertain about that label after seeing those teeth, but it would suffice for now. Besides, he looked like he could handle himself... but everyone carried a weapon in Razkar's world. You were either a corpse or a victim without one, and they were no guarantee of skill or intelligence.

The Myrian shrugged inwardly. In that case, he'll die. Less money to pay out...

With that somewhat coldblooded thought in mind, he left the "human" to sit down and resumed his watch. He didn't have long to wait; what seemed like mere moments after the androgynous, toothy human(?) took his seat, another of his kind appeared. Tall as well, but darker-skinned, piercing eyes and lips that were just on the edge of smiling.

"Daelyn Caliban. Lifesaver."

There was a series of glances exchanged at the table, and Razkar cocked an eyebrow through a plume of smoke... then his shoulder bobbed and the smoke swayed as a chuckle split through it. He smiled... and let he human see the rows of sharpened teeth lining his mouth.

"One thinks need other thing for what have planned." Black eyes flickered behind the waiting human, seeing the faint figure of Gene Duval watching from the bar. Ah. So that explained it. "But... healer would be useful..."

The Myrian nodded to the last available seat and the human took it. He looked around his little band, and decided that not in his wildest dreams and with a pound of Taloba Grey could he have imagined such an odd group of underlings-cum-mercenaries.

Some would fall in the face of what he would march them to; of that, he was certain, but such was the ways of Myri and the lives of sellswords. Others would rise and roar atop the corpses of slain... and he would be among them.

Of course, he reminded himself as he swigged some ale to water his dry throat, Taloba Grey tapped out into an empty mug, the mizas are more motivation for them. Only barbarians, after all...

Razkar leaned forward and his little band followed his lead, ensuring they would hear his hushed words.

"This is job..."

OOC:OK, this is now CLOSED. This topic got way more attention than I was expecting, actually, and we now have five PCs active for the mission. So, that's where it ends. Sorry to anyone else who was interested, but I don't want this getting any bigger and becoming unwieldy.

[Des]

Taking a seat the man offered to him in a inhospitable way. It might look inhospitable but that fact he offered a chair instead of a sword in the back shows a small sliver of respect. Watching the ethereal girl only helped to grow his paranoia, taking his attention off the girl and looking over to the first thing that caught his eye. A shell game he watched the man slide the shells back and forth. His hands were fast but to Des' eyes he was moving at a snail's pace. He made a game of it and started calling out the correct shells under his breath. Left, right, left, middle every call he made was correct. He grew bored of watching the shells and turned to a table of men playing Lier's Dice. This game was more interesting, He watch the men roll their dice inside the cups. Each man called out their numbers and placed the cups up side down and looked at each other. Des observed them closely and tried to pick out the liers. The man with and eye patch was too confident he was telling the truth but was trying to trick the others into thinking he was not. The man with glasses was calm and patient he most likely was telling a fib. The drunken man was everywhere Des could not tell what he was doing. The drunkard calls the man with the eye patch a lier, unfortunately he raises his cup and it show that he was telling the truth. Des smiles at his correct observation of the mans behavior.

[Fubuki Kouri]

Fubuki Kouri "Big Sis... are you really going to do this?" Rena came out of her hiding behind Kouri's body and took a seat beside her, or at least made herself to look like she's sitting; the sisters were floating just a few inches before actually touching the seats after all. Nobody seemed to notice her save for the male and female Myrian. It proved how superior the Myrians' instincts were. "Yes, Rena... we're going to save those slaves. Being a slave is suffering, right Rena?" Kouri tilted her head down and to the side to look at her little sister. "Of course, Big Sis..." Rena timidly answered, she wouldn't disagree with Kouri on this one of course as the answer was quite obvious. "Then the one who enslaves people are evil, right? "Y-yes..." "And evil people deserves to...?" "T-to?" Rena wasn't quite sure on how to answer, but in her mind she knew Kouri was going to say... "To Die... Rena, along with all arrogant people." Kouri said her ominous sentence with a gentle smile on her face, she then lovingly ruffled Rena's hair. "If they don't die, Rena. This world would never be better... Don't you agree?" "U-un..." Rena slowly nodded, she didn't want to argue with her older sister. She was right after all, in most cases. Rena still haven't completely gotten used to Kouri's violent tendencies, but at least those violence was directed to evil people. "Rena, I already told you about Madame Kaie, Sir Razkar, and oh! There's Madame Kyra! I met her a long time ago in the Hotsprings~" Kouri gestured to each people she knew. "You have lots of friends, Big Sis! Can I talk to them?" Rena tilted her head in curiosity. She never knew her sister had this many interesting friends. "Hmmm, perhaps later, Rena. Now is not a really good time..." "Awww... Okay, Big Sis..." "I never knew the other people here though... hmmm.. this one is named Sir Solin if I heard correctly and this one... hmmm... eeeh..." Kouri rubbed her forehead, she had missed his introduction. "Sir Daelyn, Sis!" Rena smiled. "Oh yeah! Sir Daelyn~ We'll talk to him later, he seems like a nice person~" The sisters' eyes then locked themselves into the final person they noticed. "What about that one, Sis?" ".............................." "Sis?" "Nothing, Rena..." Kouri went strangely silent when she saw the spiky-haired male and his oh-so-cool attitude. "I want to kill him..." "W-what did you say, Sis?" Rena didn't really capture Kouri's murderous remark and did her sister's crimson eyes just glowed for a moment? "Oh... it's nothing, Rena." She avoided Rena's question and ruffled her hair again. "Just... stay away from people like him..." Rena just kept silent and nodded, snuggling herself against Kouri's body. Oh, you won't even get to near Rena... I will kill you... one way or another... In Kouri's mind, the man's attitude reminded her of a certain petching squire. A squire who deserved to die and maybe this man as well.

[Razkar]

Don't petch around when you don't have to.

His father's words came back to him, from far away both in time and space, and Razkar heeded them now, of all moments. As his onyx eyes swept across the crowded table, he saw faces set and intent on what he had to say. Even the ghostly adolescent and her partner seemed focused on him.

The Myrian did not know the quality of those gathered. Swords and bows and hard looks and choice words did not a sellsword make, and certainly not a warrior. But they had come; they knew what he offered, and they offered themselves. Now it was his turn to be forthcoming.

Mostly.

"I not tell you all now," he said bluntly, thin wisp of smoke still trailing from his pipe, the last dying ember of Taloba Grey consumed by a desperate flame, "Because I do not trust you. Not make face, I see on some faces. We are in work where trust is earn, not give. But I tell broad."

He slide an empty stein into the middle of the table.

"Ravok."

He put the ashtray about a foot away from it.

"Zeltiva."

Once that was established, his hand vanished into his pocket... and a gold miza was produced with, Razkar had to admit, something of a dramatic flourish. Then again, it served its purpose very well, considering what it represented.

He slapped the coin on the table next to the stein, then started to slide it towards the ashtray.

"Caravan that leave Zeltiva is target." He spoke slowly, knowing his Common was progressing nicely, but now was not the time for mistakes or misunderstandings. "Cargo is slaves."

He looked up, making sure all eyes were on him, or the coin. Either one was good, and actually revealed something about those who he'd drawn to his banner. Looking at him? They wanted to know the details. Looking at the coin? They wanted the money. Both were useful to him.

"We are going to wait..." He stopped the coin halfway between stein and tray. "... at place where caravan come... and-"

His hand became a dark blur as it smacked on top of the coin, covering it completely, volume and violence of the gesture leaving nothing to the imagination.

"... only slaves survive. Will not be just us. Others will be with us. Money for you..."

Now the Myrian paused, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Ah, yes, about that, a sarcastic and merciless voice chimed in from inside his skull, you've all come for gold, but I can't even tell you how much you'll get. Bravo, boy...

"Will be decide tomorrow. But will be worth time. Worth getting blades wet." And didn't Razkar's eyes just gleam for a moment at that image? "And will be plenty of corpse around with full pocket and weapon and armor. They not need them. Welcome to loot."

Razkar straightened up and his eyes swept his audience again. He paused on each visage for just a moment, searching for uncertainty, questions that he knew would come, disapproval or perhaps argument. He found none... for now. He knew that many barbarians were somewhat righteous about slavers, regarding them as his people did the Dhani.

He shrugged inwardly. He'd worked for one before, and as far as he was concerned, those poor wretches had allowed their liberty to be taken.

The world was for the strong, and the weak were punished with death if lucky... and chains if not.

"Before anyone ask as for why of this..." Razkar held up the coin, and though it glittered so pleasantly, even in the dirty light of this hovel, his eyes did not, and his face was hard "... this is why. We are mercenary. Sellsword. Why does not matter. Coin matter. But... other questions...?"

Razkar leaned back in his chair and it squeaked softly in protest. He idly wondered where he could pick up some more Taloba tobacco, as his pouch was now sadly bereft... but for now, he kept his eye on business. Questions would come. They always did, and in fact, one would be a fool not to ask them.

[Des]

Thinking to himself gold is nice but it's only useful for the living, the ghost is shading grey all over this ideal. Staring blankly at the man unimpressed. Flash some mizas to get are attention rally us with promises of blood. The slaves added another factor what does he want with them? Leaning forward staring at the man and begins to fire questions at him.

Thats it kill everything thats not a slave? Do we know anything about the caravan? Where it is i know you said it's leaving Zeltiva but has it left and if it did how long ago? How many guards does it have, whose it is. We have the element of surprise should we not form a plan to increase are success and what of the slaves what is to be done with them?

Everyone else seemed to have questions as well the stall volume output increased dramatically everyone trying to get their say.

[Razkar]

"That's it: kill everything that's not a slave? Do we know anything about the caravan? Where it is, how many guards it has, whose it is? We have the element of surprise; should we not form a plan to increase our success and what of the slaves; what is to be done with them?"

Razkar cocked an eyebrow at the slightly-imperious tone of the youth. He knew better than to smile, though. That would only encourage him, and an attitude like that would not aid the wild-haired boy in the future.

Better to knock it out of him now.

"You deaf, or stupid?"

He let the simple question hang in the air. He let his guileless face show nothing to the boy, watching to see if it would contort with anger or color with embarrassment. After the challenge-cum-insult had marinated for a few heartbeats, he leaned forward slightly and looked Des in the eye.

"Where? What? How many? Who? These not things you need ask for now. There is plan; there is details. I have them." He tapped the side of his head once, not breaking eye contact. "And when I am ready, when I decide, I will share. I will say again, boy. I-do-not-trust-you. Why I tell all to someone I not trust? If you are in, if you come to where we make ambush, then I tell. Then I give plan."

He settled back again, sighing softly as though he were a student dealing with a disappointing pupil. His right hand scratched his ribs... right under where his kukri was sheathed across his left pectoral. Boys like this... they could be proud. They let their pride guide their hands and that could make for such poor decisions.

Razkar wanted to be ready in case Des made one.

"As for slaves?" He shrugged, utter insouciance in the gesture. "Who care? You hire to kill, not make rescue or hold slave hand. Ask question? Make question about gold or when leave. Anything else can wait until you out with me."

Razkar put up his finger, one final thing occuring to him.

"Oh... and not we, boy. Not we until you say 'yes', and I say is we."

His point made (he hoped), he dragged his eyes away from Des and looked around, waiting for other questions. His right hand stayed where it was though, feet braced under the table to jerk himself out of his seat if he had to.

Razkar would rather not, though. The boy would be far more useful to him dying out in the Bronze Woods than on the filthy stone of the Spinning Coin.

OOCI'll answer each person individually, but only once, since otherwise this will drag on for pages. Also, Des, I had to correct about eight grammatical mistakes in just that small paragraph. I'd suggest you start reading through before posting.

[Fubuki Kouri]

Seeing Madame Edreina's friend explaining the mission in a clear, precise manner filled Kouri with assurance, the assurance that all of those petching slavers will die. So... slaves from Zeltiva to Ravok... they will die... Kouri didn't give much thought to the slaves being carried... yet. "S-sis..." Rena seemed to be quite intimidated by Razkar and the gruesome nature of the work he explained. She tugged on Kouri's sleeves and looked like she was about to cry. "Rena... it's alright..." Kouri leaned down and lovingly kissed Rena on her forehead. "You can go home now... if you'd like..." She gently smiled at her little sister, easing her anxiety. "W-when will you come back, Sis?" Rena very much wanted to get out of this scary place, but she had to make sure Kouri was alright and would return to her. "I will return tonight, I promise..." Kouri voiced her oath, her tone confident, clear, and precise. "Go on home, now..." "Okay... Sis..." With a farewell hug, Rena kissed her older sister on her cheek, released her, and floated away from The Spinning Coin. She phased through the exit and was gone. "Now then..." Once Rena was not visible anymore. Kouri returned her attention to the table to find this annoying spiky-haired male whose name Kouri didn't even bother to remember spoke, firing Sir Razkar with unnecessary questions. "Shut... up!" Kouri lightly shouted, her voice raising by the second and her crimson eyes turned to slits like a snake and her hair spread out acting like a silvery white white cobra hood. Kouri extended a thick tendril and it coiled around the spiky-haired male's neck, choking him and preventing him from talking further. "It should be simple... don't make it complicated..." She gazed at the male and then at all of the gathered party, nodding in respect to Razkar, Kaie, and Kyra. The people she knew. "Sir Razkar, I have a suggestion, how about I shall do the first strike? I can fly and manipulate sixteen daggers with me... They will focus their attention on me and then... Sir Razkar can lead the assault, hacking them down and leave their bodies to rot!!" Kouri spoke with determination that rivals a Myrian warrior in combat. "How does that sound, Sir Razkar?" When she spoke to Raz, her tone was respectful; like a knight to his grandmaster. "Now you..." Kouri returned her attention to this annoying trying-to-act-cool guy "I don't know you... but I sense that you're a petching amateur... stay out of our way and don't hinder us." She then released her tendril as to not kill him. "If you don't like what I said... prove to me that you're better... defeat me in single combat!! Amateur..."

[Kaie]

One by one they poured in after her. Mostly unfamiliar but Kaie did know the more aggressive spirit, Kouri. Her companion on the other hand? She did not know. Hearing the little ghost's greeting, the Myrian woman simply nodded to show acknowledgement to her. They'd have time to talk later. Next came the hot shot who was foolish enough to patronize her fellow Myrian. Had she been in Razkar's shoes, she might've wrung his neck right then and there. Of course if that were true she'd also have his calmer personality as well, which is exactly what saved the kid. From there it started to get more interesting with new faces. First came the blonde with the distinctly feline eyes. Anyone could see she drew the eyes of men she passed, the way they seemed to gape at her. A Kelvic nonetheless. The Myrian woman knew little about their race other than the basics and a few tales from the Stallion. That's when another one came in. This one was a male though and she couldn't sense too much animosity in his personality. Tall and skinny, but having another animal in the group was never a bad idea. They had skills of their own. Then finally, Daelyn the "lifesaver." Obviously some soft of healer. A necessity to anyone going into combat but she hoped they wouldn't need his medical services. Noticing Razkar's onyx eyes become more animated, sweeping the faces of his new crew, Kaie knew they were getting started. What exactly did this son of Myri have in mind for them? Something dangerous, she hoped. Yet as she looked about her peers she felt somewhat uncertain. These were not her people. Their races were not known for military prowess like the Myrians were, training as soon as they were capable. Could they kill and prepare to possibly be killed for the cause Razkar was presenting them with? "I not tell you all now. Because I do not trust you. Not make face, I see on some faces. We are in work where trust is earn, not give. But I tell broad." Kaie hadn't even realized her jaw had begun to drop with indignation until he made mention of it. Immediately, her jaw snapped shut and her expression became placid. What could she have said anyways? He had no reason to trust her. Not yet. She was Myrian but she had also been away from her race for quite some time. When her people suffered greatly from Djed, she was not present. She was off in some barbaric city where they had wealth and mages as a decent defense. Taloba had little. Blood was not trust. Actions were. He was far wiser than she and already she had learned a valuable lesson. Sitting across from their leader, Kaie lifted her harms to rest them on the table. Leaning in to listen closely as Razkar began to tell them exactly what was on the table. Kaie watched the tattooed man move about the stein and ashtray into positions of the cities. A coin representing his squad of sellswords. Ironic sort of. Brown eyes constantly flashed between the symbolic coin and the Myrian. The coin to follow the details he was bestowing them with but watching him to gauge his reaction. To study how expressions as he explained each phase of the movement. Searching for a hint of what exactly she was in for. He betrayed none to her disdain. Money wasn't her concern. The seventeen year old was ready to get out there and split some heads. She was tired of the overly protective guard and the immense civility of Syliras. Kaie wanted to spill blood and sacrifice bodies to Myri. That was her priority. It was mere chance or fate that Razkar would be the one to potentially bless her with that opportunity. Besides, if she found herself coveting a Miza or two she'd just loot it. Surely there'd be something on her victims worth a trade. Right? Once Razkar had finished admonishing the kid, Kouri finally seemed to lose her thin wall of sanity. It seemed Kaie wouldn't have to be the one with the fiery temper tonight. There were plenty willing to speak viciously for her. Instead she just remained where she was leaning on the table politely listening. Thinking about strategies. Sure, a ghost distraction could work. It'd probably scare the hell out of any amateur kid on board... Unless they were experienced. Besides the fear factor, Kaie had to consider the idea they may have someone versed in deadly skills there. Forgetting the fact she even know the ghost, Kaie's military mindset would naturally urge her to save assets where she could. Of course she couldn't save everyone, but no one likes to lose bodies before the battle even begins. She couldn't help but interject. "I don't like to underestimate my enemy. If spiritists are involved you're sunk there, Kouri. But..." She said slowly while drumming her fingers on the booth table in thought. After a short pause to formulate her own suggestion, she extended an index finger to point at the female Kelvic. A small grin edging up the side of her lips in amusement. "Something tells me even slavers enjoy a pretty face. Who can resist an innocent girl lost in the woods all alone? More likely than not, they'll stop the caravan if only for a moment. Cause them to lose focus with a diversion." She continued her train of thought, seeming like she was just thinking out loud instead of sharing a plan with everyone else. She could picture it. The blonde just so happening to come through the trees and into their path. She wouldn't need to be a stellar actress to pull it off either. On the off chance the slavers thought it'd be a good idea to take her, they'd all be striking within moments anyways. She quit tapping and entwined her fingers into one. Of course she could've offered herself but Kaie had seen the reaction the girl had caused just walking in the Coin. She was capable, no doubt. Besides, Kaie wasn't the one with literal claws. "...And that's when we strike. Take it from the back. Maybe throw Kouri in during that phase to cause confusion between the entirely different situations. Of course that's just a suggestion, I'm open to other options." She finished letting her brown eyes search her companions' to gauge their reaction. Perhaps one of them or Razkar would add on or refute her plan. Either way, no hard feelings. What she did know was that if there was a distraction to be made, they couldn't send in men for a woman's job. Not like that. "Razkar, how far off the trail might we be? I'm assuming they're taking Kabrin at least part of the way?" She asked suddenly as a question popped into her head.

[Razkar]

If he was honest, Razkar would have to admit he was not paying much attention to the ghostly girl and her little friend. When they exchanged hushed word his eyes were still on Des, a more likely threat at that moment, but that faded when-

"Shut... up!"

-her voice shattered the tense silence, and a smoky tentacle whipped around that youth's throat, squeezing tight-

"It should be simple... don't make it complicated..."

The Myrian's eyes widened to hen's eggs, shock writ large on his face. Etheral... but apparently not out-of-touch with the world, it seemed. Capable to manipulate its own essence into weapons.

Very useful...

"Sir Razkar, I have a suggestion, how about I shall do the first strike? I can fly and manipulate sixteen daggers with me... They will focus their attention on me and then... Sir Razkar can lead the assault, hacking them down and leave their bodies to rot!! How does that sound, Sir Razkar?"

The Myrian's lips curled in an appraising grimace as he pondered this. He had made his plans, naturally, poring over that map and that letter for two nights now, analyzing the likely places the caravan would pass, choke points, possible rest stops... but he'd never factored in having something like her along with him. She would certainly be a fine distraction, and with sixteen blades whipping through the air...

"Now you... I don't know you... but I sense that you're a petching amateur... stay out of our way and don't hinder us. If you don't like what I said... prove to me that you're better... defeat me in single combat!! Amateur..."

"Enough!"

Now it was the ghost's... yes, he was sure that was what she was, stunned as he still was to be in the presence of one... turn to be surprised. White hair that didn't flow quite right in air that it no longer belonged to whooshed around as it's head snapped to his, red eyes flaring slightly.

Finding an implacable and neutral Myrian face looking right back at it. His voice had not been a shout or a bellow... but it had been an order. Razkar was gambling that her respect was a sign that she knew which of those to obey.

"No fight here. Fight is out there. Want to fight him?" He jerked his head to Des, massaging his sore neck. "Want to fight her? Do later. After job. And you idea is... elegant." He chuckled softly, the first outward sign of real emotion Razkar had shown so far. "And may work. But I have plan. Still... good idea. May use."

Rehkuna's voice came to him, as his father's had done: plans are all well and good, but they all go to the hells when swords smash together. Reality was rarely so merciful as to work around your plans, and what was more real than a battle? He would need to adapt, as she had taught him.

The Myrian kept a wary eye on the ghost and the boy, nor glaring at each other like alley cats gearing up for a scrap. But at least he knew they were interested, and the ghost... well, she was clearly not just craving mizas.

Razkar gifted her with a tight, knowing smile.

That makes two of us...

And he realized it was more likely three, when Kaie piped up with her input. Ah, a fellow Child of Myri. Why else would she agree to such an endeavor? The gold would be a factor, true, as it would for any sellsword... but a very distant second to the chance to shed blood and glory their Goddess-Queen.

The male listened to her advice about "spiritists", whatever they were, and made a not to ask about them. Her idea for luring the slavers in made his lips quirk into a smile, but only briefly... because then she asked questions. Questions that came dangerously close to those asked by that damn boy...

"Details, again." He said, somewhat wearily, putting both hands up as if warding them away. "Not get details now. Just yes or no. That is what questions for now are for. If agree, then get details, when we leave and go to place we make ambush. There will be time. But for now..." his eyes flickered to the ghost for a second "... not make complicated. Are you in... or out?"

Something fluttered angrily across Kaie's features and Razkar's eyes slid to hers, words coming out fast and fluent in his mother tongue, confident that only the two of them would understand it. He knew it was a faux pas, but every fiber of his matriarchy-bred body demanded some recompense.

"Forgive me, mistress, but this is not the time. I trust only clan and Goddess-Queen, as you were raised to, but I intend no offence in being cautious with this sortie. Plans and facts and strategies and all the information a warrior would need will be available, I swear. But for now, I need only to know if these barbarians will come with us. I already know you will."

That done, and with more than a few eyes flaring with irritation, he took a breath and waited for the next question.

[Daelyn Caliban]

"I'm not just a healer. I'm handy enough with a blade. Probably not as good as a Myrian, but decent enough," Daelyn said, taking the seat offered to him. He looked around the table at the ragtag band that the Myrian had assembled. He couldn't place all the races, but he thought maybe he could place the one's he'd get along with. He liked the Myrian already. And the stupid petch playing with shells? He couldn't help but chuckle.

The rest seemed solid enough. The two...pseudo-transparent girls, the lithe petch, the tan woman, and the blonde. Solid enough. He tugged at his shirtsleeve subconsciously.

Wonder how that'll go over.

Another inward chuckle.

He watched the Myrian place the cups, fiddle with the gold coin. He kept his eyes locked on the frightening visage across the table. The money was a nice incentive...but it was the blood of the slavers' he was after.

"Bloody petchin' hell," he began when the petchin' fool spoke. "Playin' with shells and running your mouth. Get serious or I swear to all the petchin' Gods I'll make sure you die out there, even if I have to kill you myself." This was too important. He needed the money to find his sister. He needed to see if the man with the eyepatch would be there.

He watched with an amused smiled as one of the ethereal girls choked the village idiot, and returned his attention to Razkar when he spoke. His eyes darted back to the girl and he shot her a quick wink. Nothing wrong with a bit of showmanship now and again.

He listened as the floating girl and the tan skinned woman spoke, and leaned back in his seat. The Myrian was going on about trust, trying to get the fact that he had a plan drilled into everyone's heads. Each one who had spoken had offered a petchin' suggestion. Not Daelyn. He only had one thing on his mind.

"My sister was taken by slavers. I couldn't give a shyke less about the rest of those weak bastards, but if I find her, I'm taking her home," he said, gazing at each member of the team with a look of hatred and simmering anger. "And if you see a bloke in an eyepatch, real fancy like..."

He stopped for a moment, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Probably looked like a petchin' madman.

"He's mine."