Lunearo stepped up to the table, putting his armored hand on the table. His breathing was loud and metallic, as if listening to the wind in a cave. His eyes were not visible, but it was clear what he was looking at. With the other hand, he bowed to the captain. [color=39b54a]"My captain, helping people is what you do, therefore, what I do. I've heard much of Wiern, but only from what manuscripts exist. I have but one question; how many corpses do the locals bury annually?"[/color] He chuckled, then looked at their merry band. [color=39b54a]"Captain, just point and I'll pull the string. I'm betting we all would, eh? We all have nothing left to go back to, I lost my land, she's a former slave, they lost their honor, etc, etc."[/color] He took off his right glove, and etched a symbol into his hand. He then dropped the blood onto the bare ground, chanting while he did. He quickly finished, and put his glove back on.
	[color=39b54a]"There, done. Ask me about that later."[/color] He saw a nearby stool and sat on it. He saw a stone and started using his dagger to shape it with runes. He watched the others all the while. [color=39b54a]"Two outta' twelve. I like my odds."[/color]