At being addressed by the barbarian full of bravado, Rinx's elven guise downcast her eyes in favor of the zither, her long fingers running just above the spider-silk strings. Quietly, to herself mostly though she'd not hidden her words with any effort, she'd given her light, airy opinion. Likely, the words were tainted with the way she'd been addressed, whether taking offense at the after-thought or the question at her willingness to seek out stories. [color=darkgray]"It would do no good to know if I were counted amongst the dead either, I think."[/color]

Her eyes flashed momentarily over to the teifling who's thoughts seemed to align with her own, his true smirk touching the fair elven lips at the 'dirge' comment. In a fair bit of humor, the delicate elven fingers strummed a few sad chords belonging to a funeral precession by way of tuning. When the human chimed into their conversation, however, she was a little more keen. [color=darkgray]"It may not be the stuff grand tales are made of, but even giant slayers have to start with a pittance quest or two, like seeking lost souls. One could never know what nefarious villain is at the root unless they seek it out."[/color]

Still non-committal, but Rinx knew there was likely more coin in adventuring than solely singing and playing for the miserable folks in this village. And he did actually enjoy his craft, even if it was mostly another face for his true goal. It seemed his contact did not know he had arrived, so he might as well do something to busy himself in the meantime aside from playing daily at the mead hall. Though the gnome was a little more earnest than he cared for, the teifling was reasonable. These others, he wasn't sure, but that part of the fun?