Soikka found himself nodding along to Fallon’s statements, curious to see what they could offer each other. It had surprised him a bit when the man spoke up first, shooting him a question, as he hadn’t spoken much since their meeting -- it was to be expected, though, as judging from his appearance he supposed that he didn’t look like he could be of much use. His name's Gilli, he noted, listening to the archer speak attentively. There was finally a name to match with a face. The man’s accent was thick, perhaps magnified with the help of the alcohol he was downing, but decipherable enough for the youth to make out his following words. An axe-wielding bowman, Soikka thought, digesting the information. You don’t meet someone like that every day. The man would be priceless in a fight, undoubtedly, given that he could shoot both long range and be of use in a scuffle. Figuring it was his turn to divulge what he had to offer, Soikka picked up where Gilli had left off, not wanting to wait any longer. “As you can see, I’m handy with a dagger,” he started, patting the sheathed blade on his belt with one hand as he talked, “And useful in a brawl. I move quicker than most and I know how to hit where it hurts.” While he wasn’t exactly as built strength-wise, per say, as someone like Gilli, he wasn’t about to roll over with his tail tucked between his legs in a scrap. “As for my other talents…” Soikka trailed off, wondering how to put his next words as delicately as possible. If he’d heard right, the bowman’s accent was distinctly Sunberthian -- a place where, if he wasn’t mistaken, they didn’t take too kindly to those with his particular set of skills. Though Gilli seemed like an agreeable sort of fellow, albeit a bit gruff, Soikka wasn’t one to take chances in the company of two complete strangers. “I’ve been told I’m quite the sweet-talker,” the youth began conversationally, leaning backwards in his chair. “I make friends easy -- havin’ a pretty face don’t hurt.” He paused, eyes dancing over their faces in an attempt to gauge their reactions. “When information comes around, it tends to reach my ears.” Soikka carefully schooled his face into an expression of faux-nonchalance, shrugging slightly. “If it doesn’t, it reaches my fingers. I’ve got a pair of wanderin’ hands, see, and they have a funny little habit of picking up things that don’t belong in a pocket or purse.” “I’ve been known to let a word or two… ah… slip, in a sense, to the right people.” Soikka grinned roguishly, folding his hands together on his lap. “For a price, of course.” While brokering information tended to leave all the wrong sorts of people chasing after his tail, it made good money -- especially in Ravok, where the higher-ups weren’t too keen on having their dirty laundry exposed. “Since I’m here to form a few ties an' whatnot, I won’t be askin’ for much,” he continued, eyes calculating, “But it don’t come free.” After a slight pause Soikka shifted, crossing his legs and turning his head to address Fallon. “What I’m more interested in, now, is you. Pardon my manners, miss, but I’m none too keen on working with someone who I haven’t got the slightest clue about.” He raised a brow, looking back and forth between Gilli and Fallon. “And I still don’t know how you got my address.” Soikka added, his tone more along the lines of curious than accusatory. |