‘Shoot- wha-? Oh, nonono, no,’ Sett clarified, waving Aeryn down as he followed on. ‘We don’t need to shoot her.’ [i]Not yet, anyway.[/i] This “Lynn Read” seemed non-hostile for now, but she was by no means unsuspicious. Yes, there were certainly great bounties to collect, but belts to trade seemed rather... wait, did she say “belts”, or “pelts”? Damn that accent. And either way, in this humid environment, her wares seemed superfluous.

Not that it mattered. Beren had made the choice to treat her as a fellow guest in the town, in the end; despite his jumping as Aeryn wound up directly behind him, Sett’s own presence seemed to calm the man down somewhat. Now, why would- ah, right. Dark Elf. Lynn Read might be a bit put off by that, mightn’t she. And with Aeryn seemingly under his command at the moment... very well, he supposed he would have to take charge of that situation.

‘Rest assured, ma’am, all is well,’ he clamoured, posturing as he always had as they moved into the tavern (guiding Aeryn that way if he had to), ‘and fear not my stalwart companion here, for she is quite friendly.’ To make his point, he patted Aeryn’s shoulder affectionately, before taking a seat and calling to the barkeeper ‘Good sir! Another ale, if you will, and I believe I have one more free after this.’ It’d be fine to risk tipsiness; he could water it down inside himself, if need be.

‘So, Miss Read,’ he queried politely, ‘from whence do you come? And what brings you away from there? I can only assume the trade in, ah, pelts is flourishing as well in more civil lands.’ A desire for adventure, perhaps? The urge to slay without reprimand? Perhaps the Dark Elves had her as some ghoulish mercenary? And worse ideas kept arising in Sett’s mind, his eyes flicking over Lynn’s form restlessly even though he remained at rest.

[@POOHEAD189][@Gardevoiran][@The Fated Fallen][@Fetzen][@Stormflyx][@Mortarion][@IcePezz]