Flint looked at Boran's back as the man ordered himself a pint. He clicked his tongue and, shaking his head, he scooped up the jewels that still lay on the table.

[color=8dc73f]"Maybe in a few hours, Master Gunther. Since you heard all of that, you know what the Lord wants us to do. The nobility often dislikes being made to wait."[/color] He glanced at the two younger ones, and took a moment to examine them again. It couldn't hurt to try and figure out who his allies were. Especially since both of them had yet to introduce themselves.

The girl - who he hadn't been certain actually [i]was[/i] a girl, perhaps a delicately-featured boy - couldn't have been much older than he was when he was starting his career. If she survived whatever bandits or animals fate threw at them, she wouldn't need to be in the game as long as he was, either. So long as she didn't think it was a quick-and-easy path to fortune. As for the youth; he seemed to lack the common faults of other High ones, healthy and proud, and was well equipped besides; but Flint knew how things worked. If the Aldonian had seen any battles with mercenaries, he was just as likely to have been a figurehead, more of a dressed-up house cat than a lion. The only question was, would they understand that they had to put in some effort and teamwork?

He put his room key down on the table. [color=8dc73f]"You two wait here. I'll be taking the big one and going to find a jeweller who'll buy some of these, if we have any hope of funds. When we get back, if everyone's in agreement, we need to plan how we're going to do this. I don't know about you three, but I don't fancy ending up like the last lot."[/color]

Flint paused, sensing mistrust in the air. He couldn't tell if it was one of the two, both, or just his imagination. Shaking his head again, he reached up and took off his pendant, laying it gently on the table next to the key. The chain was made from simple iron, but the pendant itself was silver - and ancient. Faintly engraved with a web of twisting lines, it had been passed down for generations. He had no clue as to how many. It was the one relic of his past that he wouldn't, [i]couldn't[/i] let go of.

[color=8dc73f]"Proof that I don't plan on leaving this venture penniless."[/color]

Without looking at either of them, Flint turned and approached Boran, and grimaced when he saw the tankard in his hand. That was a big one.

[color=8dc73f]"I'm hoping that's only your first drink, old man."[/color] he said, his tone half-way between joking and stern. [color=8dc73f]"You and I are going to find a shop."[/color]