This was a bad idea. She'd told Hawk as much when he'd proposed it to her, but he'd gone ahead and done it anyway. If they'd all had military training and were used to following orders, then it might be something that could work, but as it was only one of the team he'd picked had a distinctly military background, and that just made it worse. If they'd all been loners and miscreants, it would have been easier to make them understand each other and work together, but with just one military influence, one man used to rigid structure and the giving and receiving of orders... It was like trying to make a bowstring with a length of metal rod wrapped in sinew.
Cora stared at each arrival in turn through the small one-way mirror set behind the bar, hidden from sight and listening intently to their exchanges. She was pretty sure the "cleaner", as he'd dubbed himself, was plotting out how to make each of the others disappear if this all went south, and given the amount of weaponry he carried she was amazed he could even get out of his chair, much less walk around. He was probably trying to compensate for... other shortcomings. The only other time she'd seen a man who thought he needed that many weapons he'd been utterly useless in a fight, spending more time trying to figure out which weapon to use than he did using them. To each his own though. She was certain he was a master at one thing at least, or Hawk would not have bothered.
She smiled at the antics of the other woman, or girl, rather. She was everything that had been wrung out of Cora herself when she was still a child, full of joy and gleeful energy and comedic wit. All three were things that Cora had been unable to indulge in when she'd been growing up, so busy had she been stopping her father's plots. It was refreshing to see, though she suspected it also hid some deeper pain.
The soldier was even easier to read than the first two, and his disdain for the cleaner was evident from the start. He was a man who was used to giving orders, and having them followed without question. He also wore his sword with the air of a man who knew how to use it, unlike the cleaner he already seemed to hate and who reminded Cora of a rodent trying to puff itself up and look as threatening as possible. No, the soldier moved with the air of a predator, a man poised to strike at a moment's notice. Perhaps even a man who lusted after violence, though such a man would be dangerous to have in a group like this. She prayed it was not the case.
The dark-skinned giant of a man that strode in and introduced himself as Vestiago was fairly easy to figure out, though she didn't expect his deft strokes with the knife once he retrieved the onion, especially for a man with such large fingers. Such dexterity was almost unheard of in a man his size, and she respected the effort it must have taken for him to reach such proficiency. The loud crash as the table was smashed to the floor a moment later startled her out of her musings, but did not throw her off for long. In hindsight, she realized she should have expected such a display. a man like him would be used to using his strength, and likely wouldn't take kindly to others questioning his capabilities with it. In the world he no doubt frequented, displays of power would be far more effective than words about it.
The scholar was the only one of the group that seemed to be exactly what her first impression told her he was, with little that was hidden beneath the surface. He was a man of thoughts and words, and no doubt believed that reason and logic could solve every problem in the world. Not to say he would be wrong, but sometimes there were more efficient ways to overcome a difficulty. A clever mind could get you a long way, but you needed a capable body to cover the remaining distance. All in all, the team would have been perfect, apart from the fact that they already disliked each other and only one of them was familiar with the concept of orders.
Picking up the tray on the shelf next to her, she made her way out of the hidden room and entered the tavern proper through the service door to one side of the bar, setting the tray down and unloading the pitchers of wine it carried, then looking up to notice the others in the room. "Oh, good. You've arrived." She said, as though she hadn't been watching and listening the entire time, then smiled at the five and offered a deft curtsy. "I'm Cora. Welcome to The Hawk's Nest." Her eyes went to the note pinned to the collapsed table, and she moved to grip the handle of the dagger and pull it free. The note came with it. "Hawk won't be happy that you broke his table." She said as she plucked the note off the tip of the knife and made her way over to the fire. "Since you have all been explaining what it is you do, I should probably tell you that I am the brains." She looked pointedly at Ilario in order to quell any arguments. "Not with regards to technical aptitude, so your position is safe, but it is I who will be the final say in the field, when the instructions of Hawk himself fall short." She bent down and held the parchment close to the fire, though not so close that it would combust, clearly waiting for something as she fell silent.
