The Mira nods, before a white robed healer heads to her side to attend to her.
The Dragonslayer is young for an elf, but a frown marks his pale skin and his fair hair lacks the shine of most of his people. When the group enter, he has removed the ceremonial helmet, and it rests atop his spear, itself leaning in the corner of the room. He remains silent as the last of the party file up the narrow stairway into the sparse quarters, and then motions for the drow who was met first to exit - he does so silently.
The conversation starts with a sigh. ’I will apologise for my lack of courtesy. My job is not an easy one - just this morning a dwarf was found murdered in some petty quarrel between gangs.’ He shakes his head. ’This whole business with the Varden doesn’t help matters. They have demanded my personal attention, and they get rather stroppy when their demands are not met.’ He pauses, glancing at his helm, its new plume still clean.
’But enough of my woes. You’re most likely here for the coin. Simply put, the Varden Empire has requested our aid in dealing with a group they describe as bandits. Precisely who they are, I couldn’t say, as I have not myself been told.’ The Captain seems more businesslike now, striding purposefully up and down the room as he speaks. ’Your job would be simply to follow my orders. The orders I have been given myself for this task are from the Queen herself, and are to aid our-’ His flow is broken by the slightest of hesitations ’-allies on the Southern continent in this matter so long as it does not compromise our own city. If you were to accept this job, you would join us in sailing in one weeks time - that is; myself, a handful of guards, and any others who accept the task. Does any point require clarification?’