The little ones bickered like indignant children, especially Kiralla and Cyrendil. Maulakanth kept his mouth shut during the exchanges and silently absorbed the insults that were carelessly flung in his direction, merely staring down all those who dared look at him. His pride flared and bruised at their inability to recognize his immense superiority over them, but he resolved to silence their bullshit through a display of force against an [i]enemy[/i] rather than [i]them.[/i] There was no glory in slaughtering small men and little girls. Besides... he still had their coin. They'd better start respecting him sooner rather than later.

When everyone had finally stopped arguing and their merry train of misfits got to moving, introductions were tossed around. Maulakanth formed the rear, guarding their procession against potential threats from behind. He listened to their names -- Cedric, Gaela, Blood-Red Brynn -- but the Orc didn't doubt he would forget their meaningless names within minutes. [color=39b54a]"I am Maulakanth gro-Urgak, Hand of Mauloch of Orsinium,"[/color] he added, his rumbling voice carrying effortlessly through the cold air. [color=39b54a]"I slew my father, Narzul-gro-Urgak, the previous Hand, in single combat. He was a far better warrior than any of you, and I am twice the warrior he was. You will be glad to have me when the fighting starts,"[/color] he finished his introduction, baring his tusks and growling for emphasis. 

That said, he went on about the plan: [color=39b54a]"And there [i]will[/i] be fighting. Bribes and thievery is for cowards and milk-drinkers."[/color] Maulakanth had picked up the Nordic insult during his time as a mercenary and taken a liking to it. [color=39b54a]"I won't stand for it. Some of you may be utterly useless in a fight, but I will consider this whole affair an enormous waste of time if I don't get my blades wet."[/color]