It was usual for Ronan to take up the rear whenever the freshly anointed Wardens traveled together as a group. He was not particularly active in their conversations, and he told himself that this was for the benefit of all parties involved. Of the five others he traveled with, it seemed to him that he was the only one with a dark stain on his past. Compared to the other Wardens- potion makers, bards, trained assassins, a [i]scholar[/i]- it was easy to feel out of place. He was still unsure [i]why[/i] Nelwa had taken an interest in him, but, rubbing his throat thoughtfully, he was glad she did. And now Berick, their mother hen for the past two weeks, had left them. He watched the assassin's Ninetails bound up to its master, blood on her maw. Ronan took a moment to check, his blood told him his companion was nearby, though the Taillow evaded his searching eyes.

The first to speak was Sasha (he had gradually been getting the hang of their names), the scholar. [i]"It's filthy here."[/i] 

Ronan snorted, but cut his laugh there and kept his words to himself. He'd been around the noble crowd enough to know how much dirt affected them, especially when clothes were involved. He wondered what the woman thought of him, a Chasind born in and rather comfortable with the mire. Dust seemed the least of their problems. Devon warned them of thieves, and somehow Ronan doubted they'd be much of a problem to him. He carried very little on him, and he was especially barren of valuables since his visit to prison. Nevertheless he touched his fingertips to the knife in his belt, reassured by its presence. As long as nobody stole his longbow, he'd be fine. The group discussed the Request Wall, and though Ronan did not contribute, he nodded in affirmation. He was on board with assisting the people of Redcliffe. Aside from the obvious reasons, Ronan was glad to be a Warden because it meant doing something worthwhile, something productive. It felt [i]good[/i].

So they headed toward the tavern. Ronan took his lead from Devon, the only person so far he knew of that had been here before. Redcliffe Village itself was mystery to Ronan, as was most of the northern reaches of the Olivine Kingdom. 

[i]"There it is,"[/i] said Devon, and Ronan eyed the tavern uncertainly. [i]""Watch out. Their ale may be good but it's not worth it when it's served by thieves."[/i] This ripped a genuine laugh from Ronan, which were always eerily bright coming from him. 
[b]"The ale must not be [i]that good[/i] if they resorted to thieving,"[/b] he joked. The Emerald Warden must have really liked those boots.
 
He trudged up the hill behind the others, stopping only momentarily to whistle for his Taillow (who quickly flew in to roost in the eaves of the tavern) before heading into the building. His stomach grumbled when confronted with the smell of cooking meat, reminding him that he had not eaten in many hours. He held the hunger at bay, for now, to check the papers on the wall. Upon seeing the request from the Redcliffe woman who'd lost her child, he felt a sharp pang of sympathy. Miscarriages had been common in his Chasind village, the harsh lifestyle took its toll on all who lived in the Wilds. The chef's request seemed appropriate to his skills as a hunter, should the man require meats. Though he would rather visit the grieving mother first, he kept the chef's mission in his mind. 

Sasha suggested they get something to eat before evaluating the missions, but Ronan had already locked on to the pitcher of mead Arïs was holding, and for a moment he grappled with himself over getting food or sitting down to drink.
His kindness won out as he followed the other Wardens to their table but did not take a seat, instead standing at the head of the table. 

[b]"I'll get the food."[/b] He rubbed his nose and refused to make direct eye contact with those he was speaking to. [b]"Wha' you all want?"[/b] He was thinking some bread, pork and beans for himself really, but he doubted the others (especially the noble scholar) would want to dine on the food of the lower classes. [b]"Though I don't have the coin to pay for it all,"[/b] he said, shaking a pitifully empty coinpurse for emphasis. [b]"So pay up."[/b]