Alexei silently listened and observed Merlin throughout his speech, taking in the information he had to give. For someone who had apparently been put on the spot, Merlin did not show any hesitancy despite the sudden pressure he would have received. A quality Alexei would respect and acknowledge from his new leader for the time being. Merlin went on to instruct his comrades of their destination to aid the port city of Woodshore but they would have to pass through Feymere first. This was of no issue to Alexei as he silently nodded in confirmation if not to hide the grumbling question why his boat he took here did go further South so he could address this undead problem faster. No Matter. 

The meeting seemed to have expired once Merlin had suggested to everyone to prepare and give goodbyes to those that personally mattered. Alexei had both cases already dealt with though he was still sour from being pulled from the war against Dissidia and leaving his Clan to the spoils but mostly to part ways from his warband crew. He missed them and wanted to fight side-by-side in glorious struggle and valor; the truest sentiments of expressed life by his Clan's standards.

Once Merlin had retired from the tavern, Alexei was left with the rest of his party to whom the individuals of it probably had plans of their own. Maribel and Valentine seemed to have been stressing the other's presence while not openly staring at one a another. Alexei pondered if they would either repel from each other like similar magnets or settle their differences by steel; that would be an intriguing contest if Maribel was capable of proving more than her small stature credited her for. 

Lan too appeared observant, if not in his case, wearied of those at the table but Alexei found the lad's eyes falling repeatedly on Raijin the most as if he was more fearful, cautious, or perhaps even both regarding the red-haired and her intimidating club that could pancake anything of lesser stature. It was an amusing thought to imagine the results of that massive and crude weapon coming down on the happy Gnome that sat with them. Granted, not that he had actually wished for such a misfortune on the small humble man.

Feeling that his mood had not been satisfied and drowned, he called upon the bartender for another round of mead, seeking alcohol's intoxicating council. Through the beverage's downing, he challenging whether the filled and fizzing mug or his mental endurance would triumph over the other. This was perhaps going to be awhile...