[color=a0410d][h1]Jerod Staudinger[/h1][/color]

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Jerod was on his feet when the explosion from the main tent went off, eyes scanning as the screaming and fighting that had sparked off. Well, the sellsword decided, that likely meant his original contract was very much up in flames, so he was now on his own. Which meant either take off and find his way out of this mess on his own, but that was foolhardy at best, considering he would either be assaulted by the warring sides, or otherwise injured or incapacitated, which meant he wasn't turning a profit. The Dwarf Kazador stormed over, demanding answers and others answered better than he would have anyways, but he saw the fear on this folk hero's face briefly. That would not do at all, not if they were being lumped into the same group right now, he didn't need some jumpy, spooked woman potentially being a liability. He spoke directly towards her, and spoke darkly, grim in tone as he addressed her after she spoke to the Dwarf on not knowing anything of what was going on. [color=a0410d]"Steady yourself, spearwoman, actions taken in terror are often regretted once looked at through calmer eyes."[/color]

Turning his eyes to her actions next, she was attempting to rally the local nobles and, likely with Kazador, withdraw and figure out what the hell happened. Still holding his, albeit empty, mug he found himself standing by the General's side while she spoke more clearly and explained they had no idea what was happening. Her plan was more sound than the jump to action the spearwoman made, he could see the Archanean soldiers marching their way, and he narrowed his gaze, analyzing them while others spoke and debated. Soldiers, Mercenaries, several Heroes who likely served as direct subordinates to the Paladin in charge. More importantly, he was gauging their intent, and as they brandished weapons, he exhaled and knew damn well that there would be no reasoning with them. A glance at the General confirmed she was eying the group, and part of his brain expected her to pull rank.

[color=a0410d]"General, if you're thinking of pulling rank on them, consider that your call to reason will likely fall on deaf ears. They've already drawn weapons and I suspect murder is already in their eyes. You'll also be labelled traitor for sheltering the dwarves, no matter the truth of things. Is that a stand your willing to take?"[/color] Whether that was the right course of action, or indeed what the right course of action was, he left unaddressed. All he did was point out that this was going to end in blood, and though he didn't say it, someone was getting what they wanted. Kazador surviving this was suspicious, beyond so, but it was also possible he was not the leader of the Dwarves that had arrived here. Well, he might be now, but that would rely on figuring out how many ranking officials died. Really wasn't his business, right now, he was acting in self preservation, which meant working together with this lot. Siding with the Dwarves and fleeing seemed the plan, which worked for Jerod, their gold was as good as anyone else's would be.

No matter what was chosen, Jerod still stood there, one hand resting on the hilt of his Rapier and the other holding his mug, acting as if it was still filled enough to warrant holding. People underestimated someone who hadn't gone for his weapon yet, and that played right into his hands. Besides, he could nail one of them with a well thrown mug, which would get their attention or distract them long enough to strike first. He hadn't been keen to tilt his hand right now, that he had been paying a closer eye than he had appeared, but the explosion left little choice in that regard. Right now it was survive, then worry about finding his next source of coin, after all, collecting coin couldn't be done by a dead man.