Already their precious little band was falling apart. What was to be expected, recruiting a bundle of prisoners? Finch knew he was a criminal, perhaps only a petty one, but criminal nonetheless. He stole, circumventing the law. As far as he was concerned, all these people were too, despite what they claimed. The Altmer, as Altmer are wont to do, pictures himself above law, above man. So far above, he thought to kill man and go unpunished for it. So fierce was Finch's disdain he chose not to believe the Altmer in the woman participating in daedra worship, that instead, the Vigilant used it as a cover for his own hate-crime. But Finch kept silent, there'd be no fighting the zealot warrior, as much as it pained him to admit it. The healer was rather ditzy, a wanderer in the clouds, but he wasn't so different - but surrounded by fire and bloodshed, Finch couldn't help but be sober. The mage, a righteous and proud sort, as distrusting of the Altmer as he, but perhaps for different reasons. How could she hold onto such a pride, especially now? She was chained next to killers and thieves, and she thought herself better than the rest?

This time, he actually made effort into holding his tongue.

The precious band was truly in shambles. No one, save maybe the healer and woman warrior, liked or trusted each other as far as he could tell. In the end, it was about getting a job done for the sake of preserving their own hides. This seemed like a job that Finch could do on his own, none of these folks looked like they could do much to help! The orc, especially? Maybe if things went bad, he could cover the escape, but Finch would prefer if nobody had to die for the sake of some noble skeever. In fact, Finch was already coming up with a plan, assuming the others would be willing to listen.

Odds are, they weren't - but Finch would do it himself if he had to. He wasn't about to let them get in the way of saving his own life.

[color=crimson]"I think I could get in... no problem."[/color] Finch finally said, attempting to assert himself among the brouhaha of the band. Perhaps talking about the actual job would distract them from their political and religious debates. He started following in Kiralla's footsteps by walking, maybe to finally veer away from the ruins of Meir Thorvale. [color=crimson]"If some of you can come up with a distraction, and drag some of the guards out of the castle, it'll be like stealing sweetrolls."[/color]

In the end, he'd still need somebody to watch his back. But none of them looked too trustworthy. He remembered one of the Reachman, the quieter one. Whatever his name was, he remembered hearing some rumor about a man of that name travelling the High Rock roads. A bandit of some sort? He seemed like a careful, meticulous sort, maybe enough so that he could keep pace with Finch while not getting caught. But the Reachman was also a killer. Finch felt that having that man watching his back might leave him with a knife in it... it was all the better to work as though he were alone, anyway. To keep that extra eye on the bandit.

He caught himself staring at Brynn. [i]'Damn it!'[/i]

[color=crimson]"Uh..."[/color] Finch stuttered, trying to come up with a save. 

[color=crimson]"So... I... might need someone ta' come with me and... watch my back?"[/color] He suggested.