Treavor listened to the group intently as they spoke about some lost treasure in the mountains, remembering that mountains typically held some sort of magical resonance deep within. It was this same resonance that dwarves utilized in their great cavern cities and which drew dragons to such places. As an artificier he could see the pattern of magic flowing through the world, enjoying the prospect of studying it further and seeing a bit of adventure along the way. However, the drunk merc was starting to grate on his nerves. "Hey buddy! Care to keep it down? Some of us are enjoying a good tale here! You wanna fight so bad I got my dog outside. Would need to tie up one of his legs but should be a semi even fight." The artificier got up and walked to the group, a strange crossbow across his back and a large hand and a half sword at his waist. Attached to his left arm seemed to be like a barrel with crystals floating around it and his right was machine entirely. He raised his artificial hand to shake. "Name's Treavor by the way. Couldn't help but overhear your're heading to that mountain. Wouldn't mind getting a shot at some of that treasure. Even not, mountains in folk tales tend to have an interesting magical pattern I can study."