[center][h3][color=2e3192]Franky Lonnas – Chapter 1: Bandit Raided Town[/color][/h3][/center]

Franky had genuinely not been paying attention to the disagreement regarding the plan. Not due to any disapproval or restraint from getting involved, he was simply so sure and collected that between the majority of sell-swords and war veterans that this would sort itself out in a reasonable manner. Instead, he was busy marvelling at his daisy. That being said, the charm of the picked, plucked flower was beginning to wane. As he brought it to his nose to sniff, he was getting familiar enough with it to predict the sensation of the aroma in his head before the freckles of pollen tickled the inside of his nose. When he heard the tactician call out his name he tuned in, and similarly did so when Hugh retorted at Gaius. He was seated with one leg lying bent at the knee on the ground, and the other one bent but pointed up, with his arm resting on the upright knee. He watched Syrena shrivelled at the thought of death, not just her own, but trying to look at a bigger picture of consequences and mortality. Those that approached her first tried to issue resolve in promising her safety.

Franky understood enough from his snippets of actually listening that he would be paired with this troubled mage to put down a stow-house of magic wielders. Franky picked up his axe and balanced it against his shoulder one Kel took off upon his Wyvern, giving clear signal it was time for action. He walked near and deliberately passed Syrene in a measured, moderate pace.

"You do nothing. People will die. Yer do something, other people will die. That's not something yer can control. Even if there be a way to save these people without killing any o'er raiders... the war be ravaging on still. Somewhere... some how... a man is killing another man over the very thing this band of people be trying t'stop. And e'ry day we get closer, someone'll die due to this war. But it seems for right here and now, the gods have gifted us a chance to vote who dies and how many. I cast me-vote for the raiders and I intend to make me-vote with my axe in their blood, seeing as I have no talent with instantly setting things on fire..." he wagered, largely to himself, if not really.