[i]Never mind which unsavoury faces are to turn up in the near future,[/i] Baecion sighed to himself internally. [i]Worry about the unsavoury faces staring at you right now.[/i]

"I'm glad to see I'm being given such a warm reception from the get-go," the wizard proclaimed in a deadpan fashion, without turning to look at the recipient of his statement. "I'm sure the rivalry our races have decided is appropriate to uphold in the face of far greater potential catastrophes will bloom, perhaps even suddenly blossom with a dramatic flourish of colour and activity, quite healthily between our two selves, so as to allow for a great many moments of tension and eventful argumentation both brief and protracted, eventually transforming into a glorious if untraditional friendship derived from a certain minor degree of vitriol tempered into great interpersonal strength and loyalty by the bonds that only multiple heated battles in short order can forge, Dawi."

[i]Yes, that looks like a reasonable fill of food.[/i] Having taken his share of the feast on to his plate, Baecion finally turned to stare at the dwarf who'd asked about his presence in as uncouth a fashion as one can imagine. "And to actually answer your question," he began in a more normal tone, "you'd do well to understand that I have no intentions of actively assaulting you or any other person in this room, save in self-defense should I be attacked by one of you first. Funnily enough, I too have a need to acquire funds for my future expeditions, despite- or, some might claim, as a [i]result[/i] of- being an elf. But where are my manners?" he asked, spreading his hands in supplication and looking round the room at his future... companions. "I haven't even introduced myself yet. I am Baecion, an elf, as has been quite bluntly described already. And yourselves, fellow mercenaries?"

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