Vlor looked at the half-elf before him and watched as he raised a hand to shake. Strange customs, even for Elven-folk. To raise a bare arm without a weapon in hand to another seemed utterly odd. His father had spoken of the strange ceremony once, a rumor brough back to the clan after a scout had watched human traders meet. To grab the other's hand back was a show of greeting and respect to the elves and men. Strange, strange custom. Vlor grabbed the half-elves hand, making sure not to crush it under his meaty worn grips.

"I heard the childling speak you as 'Niv', but I have heard of one who is skilled in the art of food," Vlor replied. "You fit the bill. I cannot say that making strange meals from rare things wholly impresses me, but if the small wise one sees you fit to journey with us, then it is good to fight alongside you. Are you one of blades, bows, or fists?"