Rannon was impressed, to say the least. He knew she was a foreigner, and was bound to have a story about her. But being born outside of any nation was something he'd never even thought of. The pirate aspects about her made sense as well, by the way she moved. He'd only seen the sea once in his life, but he'd met a few sailors before. Those men weren't like her in most ways, but they had a certain walk that suggested they were steady on their feet even in an earthquake. 

Still, most pirate stories he'd heard of were less than honorable. He'd even had a few notions in his head on what he'd do if he found a pirate with his weapon. The last thing he expected was teaming up with one, or trusting one for that matter. Not for the first time did Rannon feel like his life was taking a turn for the unexpected. He gazed into his drink, and then lifted up his mug to take a long sip from it. 

Setting it down, he had a small smile on his face. The flames of the torches within the tavern caused light to dance along the scar he had on his left cheek. "That's unlike my life by a bit," he said. He shook his head, reminiscing suddenly. "Training, fighting, formations, and orders." He paused for a moment. "You'd think I'd be lost with what to do without all of that. But I still have orders in my own way, I guess. Guess I have the nose of a hound." He must have sounded like he was rambling, he realized. His thought process was on how hounds were single minded and didn't stop until they caught their quarry. He guessed the only reason he wasn't lost now was he still had Loghain to kill.  
[@MiddleEarthRoze]