Crom eyed the newcomer with a slight suspicion. If it wasn't his blood then whose was it? The man introduced himself as Soah and asked about their destination. With marginal distrust in his voice, Crom replied. "Aye mate. You got any experience with them?" Crom motioned to the snow capped peaks in the distance. It was rather cold in the forest, and the mercenary could feel the chill against his face, though Soah seemed far worse for wear about it than himself. It would only get colder the higher up they went. The grizzled man wasn't terribly worried for himself. As rough and tattered as his cloak was, it was still quite warm. He was more concerned with what might be lying in wait farther down the road. He could handle himself, certainly, but he had no way of knowing what the other members of the party might do if they were attacked. His eyes drifted to Soah again. He supposed it was possible that the man had gotten bloody during the chaos in the port, but somehow doubted his current state was the result of an accident. He felt he'd need to keep an eye on him, just in case.