Ulrin remained calm and seated as the Royal Guard sputtered his final breaths, and then raised his eye as the Woman of Ambition tore the arrow from his ruined neck. [i]Treating the dead so thoughtlessly? Perhaps she's not so ignorant of war after all,[/i] he mused to himself with a wry smile. 

Looking across the table at Captain Moron and Ezri, Ulrin nodded. "Come then, let us follow the Prince on his grand crusade. All this talk of artefacts, and the dead guardsman at the doorway, has made this chair somehow unpalatable." 

He rose to his feet, uttering a silent curse that he was the only one who hadn't walked into the King's presence wholly unarmed. His crossbow and dagger were safely strapped to Gallow, his loyal steed, who was no doubt giving his stable masters a real run for their money over at the Aviary. Walking over to the body of the fallen guardsman, Ulrin bent down and relieved him of his shortsword. It was a simple blade, with some fancy embroidery across the guard.  

Slicing the air with a few brief swings to judge the weapon's weight, Ulrin nodded with a grunt, and made after the Prince and Indus.