While others carried on with their conversation, Jagred watched subtly them over the brim of his mug, golden eyes half-lidded and glazed over, feigning boredom. Their little group of misfits appeared to be quite interesting, at least on the surface. Still, it was unlike any group he had ever worked with before. Probably because the women in this one was neither horribly deformed nor overly muscled, a striking contrast from the type of people he often ran into. The black-haired one, Espen , caught his eyes first. She was rather striking; fluid strides reminded him of a wolf prowling in its turf. His gaze lingered for a few moments, before turning toward the shorter one, Alice. Since the moment he noticed the spear, Jagred had decided to give this woman a wide berth. As a swordsman, spear fighters had been the bane of his existence ever since he started in this business, and he had scars to prove it. However, her harmless demeanor and playful tone had almost made him dismissed her at a threat. Almost. 

 Blake, the polite one, seemed to talk enough for all five of them, but while he was friendly enough, Jagred knew better than to lower his guard. He had seen men smiled all the same while killing and raiding. The other male of their group was a foreigner, who had just recently introduced himself at Mustafa. He was blunt and to-the-point, this one, but Jagred appreciated the efficient policy. After all, his mark was set; he didn’t want to wait around until the trail grew cold just because someone was bleeding a little. –“I’d have to agree with Mustafa on this one.”- With a light smile still lingered on his lip, Jagred finally voiced his opinion-“Can’t afford to botch such a nice job for anyone, I’m sure you understand. Besides, we are free to leave, so whenever you feel that you can’t keep up, leave. Won’t get you the gold, but you will be alive, and probably remain that way for a while.” 

 Soon after that, their food arrived at the behest of Blake, and Jagred found himself staring at a bowl of murky soup. It didn’t look like much, but at least it wasn’t cold. After a few tentative stirs to determine the ingredients of the stew, he dug in with fervor, suddenly aware of the roaring hunger in his stomach. The stew left much to be desired, still, Jagred made short work of his portion in mere minutes, before getting up to leave for their room. –“Well, good night folks. I will get some sleep now. Big hunt tomorrow.”-With that said, he turned and left, bringing the mug of wine with him. 

 Apparently, they had to share the room. Not really a bad deal, since he had had worse. At least there were beds. Jagred made a beeline for one of them, forsaking the baths. He could always rise early to take one later. For now, sleep came first. He lay down on the mattress, backpack and weapons at his side, the shortsword already smuggled under his pillow.