Therion suppressed a sneer as the spider wormed its way into the meeting room. It never got any easier, guarding scum. Where had he gone so wrong? How did he go from military contracts to this? He thought about the payday he was promised, and found his answer. He could almost buy a second Skyburner with how much chit Cresche had promised him. That in itself was worrying, but he wasn't going to pass up that much money, whatver his misgivings.

He gave a resigned sigh as the spider kept chattering. Part of it about drugs or something. Foul, what some of these creatures would do for recreation. Give him a good bottle of Gravlan whiskey and a coldbox full of feuerhund meat any day. His stomach grumbled at the thought; hopefully he'd be able to get food soon. It felt like he'd been waiting all day.

The conversation, such as it was, turned to the "ley," as these people called it. It wasn't quite accurate- he didn't need to be in range of a leyline to use his gifts, for instance- but he may as well humor the insect. He pulled out one of his pistols, safeties on, channeling just enough spirit into the weapon to make it glow.

[color=crimson]"...Shuran magecraft. Bullet-sorcery. Aside from never running out of ammo, I can channel my art through these. My specialty is pyromancy, though I have to be more limited in a place like this. Worry not, though. I can be precise."[/color] He pocketed the gun, crossed his arms, and turned to face his new charge.

[color=crimson]"Now, let me ask you a question. I get that I'm supposed to be your bodyguard, but that doesn't explain the chit I got offered for this job. Which means there's something a great deal more valuable, or dangerous, at play here."[/color]

He leaned forward slightly, eyes burning like low coals.

[color=crimson]"I would be very pleased to know what that is."[/color]