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[color=662d91][h2][u]Malik Rayse[/u][/h2][/color][/center]
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[color=2e3192]"...I will not be gone long, but until then, protect the people of this town in my stead. We share this common drive and a common history, though not directly, our wings were clipped the same ways. The poison of the nobles of this city must be purged, lest they rob others of their lives and loved ones... Now I am off, before I begin ranting again as I do. I know how much you dislike that."[/color]

Malik chuckled to himself at his mentor's self-deprecation, knowing full well that he, of all people, couldn't criticize the man for "ranting."

[color=662d91][i]I've done enough of that myself, especially just after... well.[/i][/color] He stood along with Sigurd, leaving his lukewarm drink on the table. It hadn't been all that great, anyhow. Malik inclined his head respectfully, armor clinking slightly as he did. Good thing he hadn't worn the more conspicuous set of armor he owned- he was already noticeable enough as it was. Black and blue was much more subtle- most wouldn't be able to confuse him for anything other than a typical Dragoon. 

[color=662d91]"Thank you, Master. I'll take your advice into consideration. Before you go, though, I have to ask- should I make contact with the Swords of Valor? Offer my services? Forming an alliance with the local resistance could help our goals in the long term."[/color]

It could also make them more exposed to danger, but then, their situation was already dangerous enough. Perhaps it was worth the risk...? Sigurd stopped for a moment, then turned back, shaking his head.

[color=2e3192]"Hm... I see their goals as similar, but not selfsame. They are born from the same seed, and mayhap they can be of some use, but... I recommend not being directly associated with them."[/color]

Malik pondered this for a moment, before accepting his master's wisdom with a nod. It was reasonable, now that he thought about it- the Dark Knights survived for as long as they had by not being subject to the whims of other powers. Even for an organization like the Swords, it wouldn't behoove to break that trend. Malik glanced up again, to see that Sigurd had gone, as per usual.

[color=662d91][i]For a man wearing so much heavy armor, he sure can be quiet when he wants to be,[/i][/color] he thought ruefully, before walking up to the bar, and drawing a much heavier couple of coins out of his pocket for the bartender. Trashy as the tavern might seem on the surface, it did have its virtues for those in the know. The bartender nodded, grabbing a smaller bottle hidden under the bar and pouring out a healthy portion. And with that, Malik hunkered down to wait, sipping at a much finer brew than he'd been muscling through before, and listened for any good rumors or gossip from the other patrons.

It was amazing what one could learn just from listening closely...