"Can't say I think your plan'll go well." The large Ranirocan watches the group as they talk, leaning a bit on his axe, shifting his feet a bit. He hesitates, as he considers leaving it at that, before he sighs. "You're right that they wouldn't turn you away, but they might not let you leave... and if you're lucky they'd leave it at that. There's also a very real possibility that they'd execute you out of fear, or just to feel good about themselves. 'Course, you can go through with it if you think I'm wrong."

He glances to the elf with the bow, grunting. "Unless you could guarantee her safety with your fancy shooting. Then, maybe. Or I could go in as a bodyguard, or some shit, although that might interfere with your plan, I dunno. I ain't a strategist." He then has a seat, taking the time to hone the edge of his axe, testing its edge a few times by taking it up and shaving off a few of his beard hairs, not settling until it's razor sharp.