"Well it's a little late for that, isn't it?" Sergei stood, dusting his pants off. "All that splashing and shouting has sure to have scared the fish away."

The merenary began to saunter over, dropping his hood and throwing his cape back. "Now, look at this. You've cost a poor crippled veteran his dinner. I can't very well farm or smith with an arm like this, can I? But you, knife-ears, that armor must have caught a pretty penny. Surely you can spare some coin for an old war dog like meself?" his face drooped into a gross scowl, and he held out his hand, wriggling his thick fingers.