As he ate, Settionne glanced round the room, taking a glance at everyone's interpersonal relationships as first impressions. He was sure at least one of the party by now suspected he was perhaps not who he said he was, though most seemed preoccupied in other ways; in particular, the oversized being that could only be one of those Skayleigh creatures from the Isles... what were those called? Oh, he'd just keep referring to them as the Isles. Anyway, said Skayleigh was apparently engrossed with threatening another man for... did he say he was a mage earlier? Well, wasn't that something. And another young woman- a Vrettonian herself, going by her accent- had gotten herself involved in that conversation too, so they were clearly occupied.

For the time being, though, he'd found himself distracted by yet another individual, this one clearly a guardsman of some sort, and rather lacking in anything of significant worth. Was this perhaps a local guard? Surely not, as he in turn seemed to possess an accent unlike that of any human living in the area that he'd heard. Not Vrettonian, anyway. 'Hello,' the man stated, extending his hand to shake, which Sett did with gusto as he continued to talk. 'Harvan Diehl. Sounds like you are all in on this adventure. I'll be honest, I've travelled a lot but I haven't been part of an undertaking like this before. You seem like the... friendliest one here.'

'Ahahaaa, well, you're not wrong, my man!' the priest responded, a cheeky grin on his face as he clapped his hands together, and in turn idly wondered whether it was really that obvious he was a priest as the man glanced over toward the giant and the... previously blood-soaked man. When asked 'What do you make of this little collection of souls?', Sett's smile faded ever so slightly, and he responded with 'I'll tell you this for starters, I've travelled plenty in my time-' Accurate, if the one boat journey South counted as "plenty", but he could fluff it up with extra details if needed. '-and I know a couple of antagonistic souls when I see them. If you're concerned about who's a problem and who isn't, well, just stick by me and I'll be sure to keep you in good health, O humble warrior.' He laid a hand on the man's shoulder, friendly warmth entering the smile on his face, and seriously considered rifling through the man's pocket with his free hand to see if there was anything of any reasonable worth to him. But, with the Elven Princess' keen gaze (amongst others) crossing the room at various points in time, he ultimately decided against it. That was a recipe for disaster.

Speaking of disastrous Princesses, the queen was speaking again, this time discussing the merits of unwinding the elven silk bags to, supposedly, impede arrow fire or even deflect blades. Surely not! Such a miraculous material, light as silk yet strong as steel, would require- oh, wait, Elves. No, magically-enchanted silk made sense, on second thought. In which case, forget nabbing any extra pots; just take everyone's newly-gifted silk bags at the earliest opportunity, and figure out how to weave them into an outfit of near-impenetrable silken armour. He knew how effective armour plate was; knights were common enough in many armies for a reason, after all. Just remove the weak spots that flexibility required, and... well, what could stop a man so protected? Dragons and demons, maybe... and mages of great power... ahem... well, he'd cross those bridges when he came to them, once he'd gotten himself set up accordingly.

[@POOHEAD189][@The ZAX][@The Fated Fallen][@Fetzen][@Lacks]