[h2]Jeanne Robina; Basilmeron Castle[/h2]
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Jeanne smirked. "Rightly so," she declared, "for apparently I'm an infamous highwaywoman known and hated amongst the wealthy. Or, in my eyes, hated amongst the greedy and somewhat worried-about amongst the somewhat-less-greedy. But don't worry, I hold myself to a set of moral standards."

She stepped out into the courtyard. "So, what are we looking at, here? Looks like we won't be lacking in the magic and wizardry department, eh?" Jeanne remarked, placing a gloved hand on her right hip. "Might as well get to know a few people, or rather let them get to know me. Since I've been branded a brigand, my hopes aren't high of starting off on the right foot with these fellows."

Jeanne stood up straighter; though still somewhat on the average side in height, she held an air of dignity that most thieves, bandits, and brigands did not. She wasn't a loot-rape-and-pillage kind of criminal, no, not by a long shot. She was more along the lines of a noble highwayman, if such a thing existed. (Which, likely, it didn't until Jeanne Robina entered the life of crime. At least, that's what she likes to think.)

She decided to start out big. Standing in the middle of the courtyard, Jeanne puffed her chest out and began to speak.

"Well, now that we got the formalities out of the way," she declared, "I think I'd like to start off by saying that I have no intention of picking any of your pockets. At least, out in the open." She tagged on a little joke, though coming from an infamous thief, that, in the eyes of her peers, probably wouldn't come off as a joke. "Some of you may know of me, some of you may not. That mostly depends on how the artists decide to screw up my eyes when they pen my portraits to put a price over my head. Those of you who have seen the [i]lovely[/i] posters featuring my face and a series of numbers will most likely recognize me. Jeanne Robina, at your service." She made an extravagant bow, throwing her torso at a ridiculously low angle and placing an exaggerated arm on her back.

It was somewhat paradoxical. Could you trust a thief who tells the truth?

"Don't all stone me at once," she added with a laugh. "I'd like to save a bit of my body for my good friends Gallows and Guillotine."

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[h2]Habeen Nocta; Basilmeron Castle Courtyard[/h2]
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Habeen toyed with her various bony embellishments, running a finger on a weathered canine on her wolf-jaw armband. The dark-skinned wanderer had thought it a fine idea to travel with the Reclaimers on their mission of peace, mostly as a valet to see this nation, its people, its practices, et cetera. She was a folk magician, but the type of magic she practiced, her contemporaries branded as "dark magic." Which was fine by Habeen; as these folks didn't know much about Habeen's practices, it wasn't technically [i]wrong[/i] to call it dark magic.

Nevertheless, Habeen always looked cheerful, even while working alone.

And so, as the tactician greeted her, Habeen gave him a chipper smile. "Habeen Nocta," she said. "Folk magician. It's always pleasant to meet new faces. Though I have to say, there are quite a few mages gathered around here. Myself included, I suppose." She laughed. "Tactician, eh? Well, here's to hoping that we're in good hands."