The bandaged fellow let out a melodic, hearty laugh as he listened to Brock and lifted his left hand slightly as if asking the other man to stop jesting. "Oh now, I would have been long since dead if I really were as careless as you assume I am." He glanced around in a manner that might have to the untrained eye seem like he was nervous, in truth the fellow tried to decide which of his many names he should give to this particular lot of people.

The Bastard of Vo Kadrak was the first name that came to mind - he was quite well known by that name in many lands, but that didn't quite feel like a proper name, it was more a nickname - admittedly a nickname he had grown quite attached to for some reason or other. His eyes caught the certain look Rook gave him - he knew what it meant. "Fear not, my condition is in no way infectious. It is good to hear that you indeed are not bandits. I am Marius of Blackwood, the second best swordsman in these parts of the world  - hopefully the best swordsman in the woods at the moment - and a humble cleric of Antharg, the Lord of Healers." What this 'Marius' left unmentioned was that Antharg was also the Lord of Plague, Sickness, Disease and only after those the Lord of Healers.

When he heard someone reciting a spell Marius quickly changed his stance - though in to a more cautious one instead of an openly hostile one - and produced a holy symbol from under his shirt. It seemed to be shaped like a slightly curving silver sword roughly large enough to fit inside someone's clenched fist - though upon closer inspection it was actually the body of a female elf, writhing in either pain or extacy. With a little movement he wrapped the silver chain that held the symbol around his left wrist while looking around to find the originator of the spell.