'...This is it, then.' A disembodied voice - as cold as Kage's own - drifted throughout the half-elf's brain, causing him to narrow his eyes and lightly touch the pure black embroidered hilt of his katana, with rested on his right hip, the sheathe ready to be clicked, and the blade ready to taste the crimson essence of corrupted flesh. It was, indeed, time to get on with his quest, and fulfill whatever destiny his Alliance spread out before him. Multiple people clawed their way to the front of the crowd, eager to sign their name, and Kage slowly stood up, setting his glass down - only a half of the original pure liquid had bee completely downed, and the man hadn't even paid for the water. A large. Orc brute attempted to shove past the motionless ronin, and amongst the quabble of the tavern, no one noticed the sharp 'click' of a katana being sheathed...nor did they noticed a thin red line, spouting out only a pint of blood, appearing on the orc's jugular vein...an instant death. The body swiftly disappeared into the shadows, and Kage continued his way to the front, appearing beside a rather...'tough' lady that had the appearance of an assassin...a class of shadowy warriors that he often worked side by side with on some of his more...dangerous missions.

"Kage...exiled samurai. I give you my blade arm, in exchange for riches." The man's quiet, sharp voice seemed only to register in the ears of those closest to him. Immediately after, he stepped to the side, just as a bustling young adventurer shoved up to the front to scream out his name like an imbecile. Dully, he noticed the assassin move towards the bar, although Kage simply waited for his name and position to be registered.