A single voice stopped him in his tracks. Turning his head back, he gave Arthyra a lazy half smile before turning around slowly and striding up until he was an arms length away. "We bandits ourselves have no use for money," he said as he folded his arms under his cloak, "but...your other offer doesn't sound too bad."
"Archie, she wouldn't survive 10 minutes in the forest," reprimanded a fiery voice from behind him.
"You're assuming we'd leave her alone," piped up another, "a healer is too precious an asset to be left wandering."
"And old Payle IS getting a bit senile..." murmered a quiet voice.
As his little band continued to banter, Archibald's single eye never left Arathyra's own, locking their gazes together. All the while, his half smile continued to dominate his face. Finally, he blinked and shook his head. "Elfie is right," he said as he opened his cloak to reveal a small clay pot which he dipped his ungloved fingers into before moving them to his mouth, a long trail of viscous honey-like liquid trailing behind it. Taking a moment to chew it like cud, he continued. "Just from looking at you I can tell you wouldn't last more than a day with our lifestyle," he said with a small shrug. He gave a moment for that to sink in. "However," he said afterwards, "though i like your sincerity," he looked over to the nobles who were already colluding amongst themselves. Typical nobleman fashion. "It looks like your companions do not agree with your course of action." He took a few steps back and gave her a half-apologetic smile. "Sorry, but your little lordlings don't want our help."

Two words stopped him in his tracks as he turned to leave. Sacred. Stone. His joking smile disappeared and his single eye dilated as he afixed it onto Alvin. He had heard legends of it, of its duty in the protection of the land. And now it was being moved? He started to chew slower. "You may know these woods like the back of your finely manicured hand," Archibald said as he again signalled for his band to stop, walking towards the Prince, "but you don't know these roads like a bandit's." The closer he got, the stronger the right side of his face twitched under the curtain of hair. At first he had just thought that it was the natural reaction he had to nobility but now...he was certain...it was much, much more. "The forests you hunt in are now crawling with Jehannen mercenaries, specifically the Dagger Guild, the Broken Blades and the Jagged Teeth," he said, drawing on the information his scouts had given him yesterday morning, "you wouldn't make it halway to Renais before you were run down like dogs." He stopped before it became physically sickening for him to be in the Royal's presence. 
"Show me the stone."