Edwin´s hand slid to his hip and embraced the hilt of a short, ugly blade sheathed there. Some people called him paranoid because of this reflex, he preferred being called alive. The weapon he took hold of was a crude weapon, looking more like a bigger knife than a soldier´s sword, but in close quarters it was a better option than the long cavalry sabre hanging at Edwin´s other hip.
He gave the woman a long, measuring look, trying to figure out if she is a threat or an ally or maybe both of those things. Something told him that she is the most dangerous person in the room. Solomon might have been cold blooded bastard and Vestiago might look like a dark skinned giant from fairy tales, but Cora was the aura of power over her.
The new note that appeared on the paper just confirmed his thoughts. Hawk wouldn´t pick just anyone to be his apprentice and she surely had some aces up her sleeve. And Edwin was sure they are more devious than these few tricks she just showed them. Secret passages hidden in walls and invisible ink… Edwin served Hawk long enough to see a more than just a few of these things and they couldn´t surprise him anymore.
He let the hilt of his blade go and took another sip from his goblet of wine. It was a little bit too sweet for him but it still tasted better than anything he usually drunk. “Do you know anything about Hawk´s plan? What does he want to with our little group of misfits?”

Solomon grinned at her "Your first mistake is to assume the guards will see me. He gestured at his cloak. "The throwing knives sit flush against my body and if you note." He produced one with his left hand and then his right hand. Both equally smooth mirror draws. "The knives in question are smaller than normal throwing knives and have the weight on the hilt. These are what are known as thorn throw knives. They are meant to be throw from a foot and a half to ten feet away, additionally." As if to make his point Solomon resheathed the knives simultaneously. "I'm ambidextrous which means I can throw the six knives in half the time it would take a normal cutthroat to do so. Moving on." Solomon downed more of the hot liquid he had prepared earlier. "The poisoners blade." Solomon unsheathed the blade sitting flush to this lower right back holding it up for Cora to inspect. "It is incredibly thin and you will note the handle has a T grip with means the blade protrudes from between the middle and index or middle and ring fingers, depending on preference. You may also note the channel that runs the length of the blade. The fluid coating this particular blade is asp venom. Highly toxic and fast acting, good for silencing someone who is about to open their mouth without a lot of attention." With replaced the blade against his lower back. "The garrote is a highly concealable weapon" to make his point Solomon palmed the garrote from its place in a pouch on his belt and passed his left hand across his right in front of Cora's face. It would have been simple to loop the razor thin wire over her lovely neck but he refrained. This one was different and If she was Hawk's second then Solomon could respect that. Instead he simply slid the length of wire out and turned it to catch the light. "This particular garrote you will notice is approaching the thickness of spider silk. It's amazing what alchemy can do these days!" The garrote disappeared just as deftly as it had appeared.

Standing he freed the Hanger Sword and Kris from his belt and set them on the table. "This particular Hanger sword is actually about two inches shorter than a normal version of its kind should be. This technically makes it a long knife, however it also makes it readily concealable." To illustrate he strapped on the sword and pulled on his cloak. Since the cloak wrapped over his body and broached on the left shoulder instead of in the middle it concealed the sword on his right hip completely as well as the harness containing the knives since the fabric of the cloak fell down in front of his chest without the normal break of a cloak broached at the throat. "As for the Kris dagger." He turned to show Cora his left side where the kris hung. Then he left his arm hang at his side and the cloak fell in front of it.

"I believe you mistake me, Love. I am not an assassin. I’m not a thug, I'm not some back alley cutthroat. I'm not a soldier. I'm a cleaner. This set of equipment is precautionary, I tailor my gear to the job, Infact some jobs I can do completely devoid of weapons. If I get a corpse disposal contract" He quaffed another mouthful of the contents of his mug "I can do that kind of job with a few burlap sacks, some peasants clothes and a pile of rocks! you need some documents burned? A dagger, a poisoner's blade and some thieves tools are all I need." He gestured at his current arsenal "This is my response to Hawk telling me he had a job that he wanted me on that involved multiple people. Lots of moving parts, lots of room for error. I could be disposing of corpses in high risk areas, silencing people who know too much, entering into fights with guards if someone makes a wrong move. See Love, You may not appreciate me now but even Hawk employs me. Things go south, even for the mastermind himself. I pick up the pieces, I sweep the mess under the rug and all of you go on your merry way whilst I do my job. I clean up the mess. I know you would like to think I'm superfluous and maybe I am! great that means I get paid a retainer and no one is the wiser but when you have the worst day of your life and you end up screwed and backed into a corner. That's when I go to work." Solomon smiled genuinely at her "You may not appreciate me now but Hawk knows the value of a gorecrow" Solomon poured himself more of the mint smelling alcohol. And offered Cora the bottle.

Vestiago felt good about putting himself into the group. His destruction of the table was the least of his worries. He knew that Hawk could care less for the table. And Vestiago needed it to broken for his show of force. His fist wasn't even slightly damaged from the attack on the table. Vestiago found the whole team formed a capable unit. He smiled and grew happy.

"Good! Every one is here! Now let us become friends and get good sleep! We have a busy day tomorrow!"

Vestiago then waved a good bye and walked upstairs. He watched as the young girl took the closest room. He then picked the next closest room and took off his cloak. Then locked the door behind him and went to sleep.

Inspecting the building once over gave Ilario some comfort, even if he didn't have time to go over every nook and cranny. Of all the fittings mentioned by Hawk's note, Ilario found nothing to be absent, apart from a slightly lower vial of venom than he was expecting in the lab. Eavesdropping on Solomon's mobile arsenal solved that mystery. There were also a few features that Ilario discovered for himself, though he was unsure whether he should have felt surprised at their existence: A reinforced door near the alchemy lab that reminded Ilario of a ship's magazine room; metal-lined, dry as a bone, full of explosive susbstances. A two-way mirror in the bar's backroom with a vent for sound to travel through -a fantastic tool for snooping-. A ring that opened a trap door in an unassuming closet, one that Ilario supposed was a secret hiding place, entrance, or exit, but couldn't follow for the darkness. At least he didn't discern any tricks in the bedrooms that he had the time to inspect.

Ilario was sure that there were many other surprises to be discovered had he the time or the inclination, but if he were to be at his best tomorrow, he could lose absolutely no more sleep tonight. He bid the remaining team members in the main room a cordial goodnight before making his way to the vacant room at the end, that shared only one wall with another bedroom.

Gorecrow indeed. It had been easier than she'd thought, getting him to divulge so much of how he worked, and after only minutes of knowing each other. True, a team needed trust and reliance on one another, but he had almost been too willing to indulge her. Like he wanted to prove something to them. Perhaps he wasn't as self-assured as he let on. Very often she had found that it was the things people didn't say, the words that slipped between the cracks, that told you the most about them.

She took the bottle and placed it on the table in front of her as he re-sheathed his weapons, then turned to the soldier to answer his question. "Hawk has told me no more than he has you. I may be His apprentice, but he knows the value of limiting information." It wasn't a lie, at least not a direct one. The words were entirely true, but designed to mislead. Hawk may not have told her anything of it, but she had seen enough documents and overheard enough whispered words to cobble together a rough guess as to their mission and its objective. Had she been in charge, she would not be sending a brand new team out on an actual mission like this, but then if she was in charge, there would have been no team to begin with.

Solomon scowled at the bottle and the scowled at Hawk's apprentice. This was going to be all too interesting, interesting was okay if it was an interesting problem to be solved like "how does one make a murdered guards body disappear in the middle of a street surrounded by a crowd of people" Hawk was still trying to figure that one out and Solomon was happy to keep his mouth shut about it but this was a different kind of interesting. This wasn't a problem to be solved it was a catastophy waiting to happen. All the little moving parts, one little miss step and Solomon would be cleaning this mess up for a month. He scowled at the remains of the mysterious liquid he had been drinking from the clay mug as he swirled it. Why hadn't Hawk just let him swing on the gallows? Sure his father was still alive but honestly going to his death with that loose end wouldn't have been THAT bad, one less death to be held accountable for on the other side. Still, Hawk had to know he was holding the leash of a rabid dog and simply praying it wouldn't turn around and bite his hand off.

What did that cunning bastard have in store for him and these poor unsuspecting fools. For god's sake one of them was still in the flower of her youth and shouldn't have been anywhere near this mess. And he could tell the apprentice was already becoming like her Master, the wheels turned behind those lovely eyes and Solomon didn't like it. The two where all too clever, Hawk knew that his schemes had a body count but did Cora? was she aware of the fathers, mothers and children that would die to serve Hawk's cause? It was bad enough that there were so many undirected deaths like his mother's that happend in the world each day. Add to that the crime related ones which Solomon had had a hand in fascilitating and then Hawk's schemes and all of the other spies and assassins out there and that was a lot of death. The Soldier clearly had an idea of what he was doing, the scholar was long winded and knew way too much for his own good, the girl was just that: a young girl, the giant he had yet to get a clear read on but he was at the least friendly something you didn't see that often in this line of work. And then there was Cora. Where had Solomon found this one, she was sharp as a razor, gorgeous and far too clever by half. If Hawk doesn't turn you into himself then you're going to end up dead in an alley someday with your throat slit and Hawk is going to send me to dispose of you.

Solomon sighed and stood from the chair. "Night conceal you" and with that he slip up the stairs like and inky black shadow smeared across the wall. Down the corridor, he stopped listening at the doors for the breathing of the occupants: the girls breathing soft and shallow, the giants heavy and deep, followed by the scholars not as deep as the giants but clearly that of a mans. Solomon moved down the hall with only the sound of silk across wood as his cloak whispered behind him. The last door on the left he reached into his belt and produced a vial of oil with which he greased the hinges and lock before sliding it silently open. He placed his weapons silently upon the floor and beside the bed save the kris which he left at his waist. With that he silently closed the door crossed the hall opened the other door with an average amount of noise. Tossed the kris on the floor beside the bed, closed the door produced his lock picks and locked the door. With that he smeared a contact poison on the handle of his rooms door. Nothing lethal simply something to induce violent illness for about six hours. He then closed the door and locked it silently before removing his cloak and picking up the hangar sword. He rumpled the bed and stuffed the pillows under it then drew the armchair from the corner to the right side of the door where he was concealed from view, laid the sword across his lap and fell into a light sleep.

Gregory Hawk walked though the early morning fog of the capital streets. He had never taken his current route before, but then, he never took the same route to anywhere twice, it made you hard to ambush. In any case, Hawk was confident that he could handle most anything likely to happen on his way to the safehouse. This was proven correct when he was accosted by a couple of young thugs while taking a shortcut though an ally. He strode out a few minutes later with a small bloodstain on his coat, which while irritating, wasn't a real problem. It wasn't his blood, after all.

The rest of the walk went without incident and when he got to his destination he stopped for a moment, taking in the battered facade of the building. He rather liked this one, a shame it would have to be destroyed within the next couple months, but a new place would be found, made suitable for it's purpose, and used for a while until it too was demolished. That was the thing about secret hideouts, if you left them in the same place for too long, some drunk bastard was libel to mistake the place for abandoned and try to move in, and then he had to be either bribed or silenced, and either way you still couldn't keep using the place. No, it was better this way, a bit more costly perhaps, but being spymaster had the perk of an almost unlimited budget. Sometimes Hawk liked to imagine the look on the kings accountant's faces if they were to see some of the stranger expenses that been seen to under his command.

Hawk entered the house via a door in the rear that only he knew about, walked to the kitchen and after pressing an unexceptional tile in the wall, opened up a cabinet built to his precise specifications. Inside was an aged looking bottle and a glass. He took both and walked into the main room. In one corner, a rope hung from the ceiling. He pulled it, and grinned as a series of bells went rang in the sleeping rooms, designed to be as loud and annoying as possible.

"That ought to get their attention." He thought as he opened the bottle and poured himself a glass of some of the finest, and most expensive brandy that could be found in the kingdom. Being a spymaster was a difficult, bloody, and for the most part thankless task. There was no lordship or lands that came with it, several of his predecessors had been killed while doing the job, one or two had been hanged for treason. Even the king thought he was mad for doing the job. But he did it for one reason that trumped all the downsides:

He was damned good at it.

And as he sat back in a chair and sipped his drink, and heard the groaning of the recently awakened he grinned again. For all the shit that came with it, there were times when he loved his job.

Solomon heard the bells and they certainly grated but it was just Hawk's way of sticking it to the world. The small things were his way of staying sane Solomon suspected. He rose and opened the door checking the hall. No one had made it out of their room's yet so Solomon collected his equipment ghosted out of the room. Closing the door to his room Solomon wiped the contact poison off the door handle and collected his kris from the other room. Without a single sound he made it down the hallway fastening his cloak he descended the stairs and noticed Hawk sitting drinking his brandy. "You bastard. Hiding the good stuff from me now are we? After all we've been through you aren't even going to share." Solomon hooked a chair with his foot and pulled it over so he could sit with his back to the wall next to hawk. "So, am I gonna need all of this?" Solomon gestured at his gear. "I figured you needed a one man cleaning crew if you were actually calling me in on something other than a solo mission. I mean if you just want me bagging and tagging bodies after the fact that's fine but I assumed you wanted something a little more aggressive given the fact that it looks like you called in half the players and your successor." Solomon pulled a flask from his cloak, and swigged calmly from it. "not planning on dying on me are you Hawk?" Solomon looked at him over the top of the flask. "You die on me Hawk and you know it's only a quick walk, swift drop and a short stop for me and I'm not sure if I'm ready to see the other side yet."

Isabelle knew, even before falling asleep, that she'd have a better night's sleep in this bed than she'd ever had in her whole life. And she had been right. The way the silk sheets fell across her form like water, the way the mattress molded to match her body perfectly, the way the pillow was firm enough to hold her head yet gentle enough to allow her to sink into it... It was official. It was all just perfect.

Until that absolute monster of a bell started ringing.

Isabelle flipped to her side, her mind still not 100% awake, in an attempt to fall back asleep, but the accursed bell kept ringing. Finally, she sat up with a resounding "uuuUUUAAAAAAAGH!" and chucked a pillow two-handed toward the sound of the bell. She nailed it, but the bell didn't stop for a few seconds longer. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes with a yawn, she grumpily slid out of bed and stalked over to the mirror (it was a small one, but it was sufficient). Her hair was a tousled mess. She sighed; she loved having such long hair, but it usually made mornings a hassle. In answer, she reached into her left boot (she only just realized she had been so amazed by the hideout and bedroom that she had forgotten to take her clothes off) and pulled out a small comb. Running through her hair a few times, she finally managed to tame her wild locks. Putting them back up into two long pigtails, she straightened out her clothing as best she could (which basically involved attempting to smooth some of the wrinkled parts with her hands). Satisfied that she at least did not look like a street urchin, she opened the bedroom door and proceeded to head downstairs.

WHUMP! Thud.

Upon leaving her room, Isabelle ran face-first into what appeared to be a small mountain that had somehow grown overnight, the force of the sudden impact knocking her down on her rear. Glancing up, she realized it was not, in fact, an in-grown mountain, but a man.

"Oh, Vestiago. Sorry, I didn't see you there. I'm not sure how, though," she added with a grin. She must really be groggy to have missed the giant standing in front of her.

Hawk looked at Solomon and held up his glass. "This brandy is worth about as much as everything you've been paid thus far in my service, and you know how generous I am. If I wasn't, you'd be in a considerably different position, you know, with both hands across your chest and your eyes closed. "

"As for Cora, don't disregard her. I've trained her well, and she has a not inconsiderable talent of her own. You'd be wise to listen to what she has to say in the future. That being said, she's nowhere near ready to take my job. I'm still the best at what I do. Anyway, I'll tell you why you're here the same time as I tell everyone else, so be a good little murderer and sit tight until everyone is present and accounted for."

"Pah! To think you Veronians place such a value on a spirit such as brandy," Ilario's accented voice sounded from beyond the door to the main room. As he emerged to join Solomon and Hawk, rubbing the remaining sleep from one eye, he continued, "But if you are insistent on paying us in beverages, Hawk, consider me with wine instead. It is the nectar of the gods after all." Ilario shot a glance to Solomon as he approached. He could have sworn he was the first person to open his door until he heard Solomon's voice while descending the stairs.

"Also, good morning to you too, Hawk, your bells-on-a-string trick has proven itself immensely." Ilario's sarcasm could be tasted in the air, "Here I was naive enough to believe that it was an alarm system when I spotted it, and a few hours later heard it."

Ilario took a deep and loud breath as he found a seat. The bells were a rather blunt method, but he conceded that it served its purpose. The real alarm system was probably build with more... contingencies. The two thoughts that were going through Ilario's mind collided and he paused still, before pointing to Hawk with a high brow expression, "Before you consider it any further, because I know you are, I would rather not be woken tomorrow morning with wine pouring onto my face. Nor will I build such a device for you, for I am against the principle of wasting good wine."

Cora entered through the main door of the building, having already been up and about for a good hour before the meeting was to take place. She had not stayed in the accommodations provided by Hawk, as the others had, but instead had retreated back to her father's estates. Suspicion was a difficult thing to avoid from a man such as her sire, but she managed it with stories of young men and entirely indecent outings, told in hushed secrecy to the maids, who in turn told other maids, who in turn told the stable boys, who in turn told the menservants, and so on until the tales reached her father. If she gave him something to be suspicious about, he might not bother casting his nets for anything deeper, and the harder she made it for him to find this tales of indecency, the more believable they became.

And so it was that she was now able to come and go at almost any hour, without arousing any suspicion of the wrong sort. She had to be careful, however, to at least put on a mask pf propriety. Act as though there actually was something to hide. Sneak in late, leave the house early, and always create a believable excuse so her father could discover her planted rumors on his own. It would have been quite an exhausting chore for most, but for her it was simply another piece in the never-ending game of stones they played. Except her father didn't even realize he was playing.

Closing the door behind her, she turned to those who had already gathered in the room, nodding to Hawk as she took her seat at the table. Her gaze then swept to regard the others. "I take it you all slept well?" Her eyes fixed pointedly on Solomon. "How did you find the beds?" There was a slight emphasis on the plurality of the last word. "Comfortable, I hope. I myself have never stayed a night in the accommodations Hawk provides, but I've heard they are always quite well furnished. I've even heard it said that the chairs themselves are soft enough to sleep in."

"Good little murderer, Really hawk?" Solomon chuckled. "And yes I suspect I'd be very different, and as for being the at what you are you certainly are which is why you have me on the payroll." Solomon stood and put the kettle back on the fire with more water in it. Before popping his back and working the knots out of his muscles. After which he prepared a clay mug with a handful of a new questionable substance in a powdered form. "so this Cora, where did you even find her? I mean she's darling and all but other than her powers of observation I haven't been that impressed. She doesn't appreciate me Hawk" Solomon faked a frown. "And after I was so nice to her too!" his grin was a real smile but as always his eyes gave the impression of something being broken inside. Solomon moved back onto his chair next to Hawk, his movements had shifted they were bigger with less efficiency and they were much louder, more gangly and just generally sloppier than when he moved without a sound. "The rest seem nice enough, I'd really hate to have to clean any of them up. And what's with taking children off the street? I thought you were better than that" Solomon tsked sarcastically, he was well aware that Isabella could hold her own.

Solomon grinned maniacally. "Really you don't say?" he chuckled "You are something else, Love." Solomon was throughly impressed by Cora, which was saying something as he prided himself on his paranoia, but his women was good.

Vestiago mostly ignored the bells. He was a sound sleeper. But of course, he was always awake when he needed to be. His monster reflexes usually allowed him to dodge or anticipate most things. Vestiago then awoke after the bells penetrated his dreams. He yawned like a bear awakening from hibernation. He slowly got up from his bed and dressed. He didn't have much to do in order to be ready. He shook the remainder of the sleep from his body. He stretched his body until bones cracked with a painful satisfaction. His muscles ready as he noticed his stomach rumbled.

"Time to eat." He muttered to himself as he opened his door and turned towards the stairs. Then something small hit his stomach. It smelled nice and girly. A childish allure to the senses as Vestiago looked down. He watched as the young girl picked herself up from the encounter.

"No worries! I am glad to see you awake!" He said with a laugh and smile. His joy rose up and filled him again. A fine spirit he held this morning. He now remembered the importance of this morning. Then his ears picked up conversation from below. He took his time to make it to the dining hall. His friends were already up and about with a morning drink. But only a snack was picked up by the others. Vestiago was glad to see Hawk.

"Hawk. My friend! Good to see you this morning. We shall have time to converse after a hot morning meal!" Vestiago then lumbered his mass over to the food stored away. He took a handful of meats and a mixture of vegetables. The kitchen that Vestiago went to explore was well made. It was more than sufficient to cook a large meal. He quickly found his tools for his skills as a chef. Vestiago set himself to creating a spicy smoked stir fry. It was a special dish he had learned while in the eastern countries. The small men there sure knew how to use spices and herbs. The house soon became filled with the spicy scent of the food. The heat and steam warmed up Vestiago. He was only at home in two elements, a kitchen and the ring.

Isabelle brushed herself off as she got back to her feet. Vestiago was already continuing downstairs, so after readjusting herself, she headed downstairs herself. Down in the main lobby, nearly everyone had already woken up. It seemed Edwin was the late sleeper, which surprised Isabelle; she'd have thought the military man would have been up before the bells had gone off. Ah well. Finding an empty seat at the table, Isabelle waved a greeting to Cora, tried not to make eye contact with Solomon, flat out ignored Stuffed-Shirt, and sat down. "So, do we get breakfast?" she asked.

His eyes looking between Cora and Solomon, Ilario tried to work out what secret messages they were trying to pass. He got up and prepared himself some tea while the kettle was boiling. Hawk's little apprentice was probably just reinforcing the point of knowing everything about each of them. Ilario had no intention of betraying his employers at this stage, so if it was meant to be a deterrent, he felt no immediate pressure from it.

Ilario sniffed at the air and considered Isabelle's question. "That would depend on whether dear Vestiago is pouring enough spices into a pot for us all. Otherwise, I assume the larder was not eaten by rats during the night, so the preparation would be down to ourselves." Ilario answered, probably without necessarily needing to. "I can smell the expenses of the ingredients from here. I have not tasted such things since... better times. That is awfully hospitable of you to provide such things, Hawk." For once, the venom in Ilario's words were diminished as he nodded to Hawk with a respectful frown.

As Ilario brought a filled teapot to the table, he glanced up to roughly where the bedrooms were. The sooner Edwin arose, the sooner they could be informed of what exactly they were all doing here. That was, if he hadn't stolen off in the night for whatever reason.

Vestiago could hear the conversation from his stove. He had an acute sense of sound, and it often surprised people. He had lived a very long time with people talking behind his back, and most of the time he ignored them. But the conversation was getting interesting. He noted to respond to the question of a breakfast.

"Yes! I will make a good hearty breakfast for every one. So relax! It shall be done soon." Vestiago go bellowed from his stove.

Solomon helped himself to the tea and winked at Cora. "You know that smell reminds me of a traders caravan that came through the lower corridor when I was much younger, the traders were transporting all manner of spices from other countries, pity I didn't grow up a little more affluent, maybe I'd have had the chance to see them." He shot Cora a look and arched an eyebrow at her general poise. He'd seen that bearing before, in the daughters of the Lords and Affluent who'd come seeking his mothers 'Services' after the incident that ended his mother's life he'd taken to keeping tabs on them and spying on their lives was a part of that in his hunt for this father. "So where did you skip off to last night, Love?" He returned to his seat next to Hawk after depositing a cup of Iiario's tea in front of her.

When first Vestiago and then Isabelle appeared, she smiled warmly at the large man and returned the young woman's wave with a second smile. She was about to answer the girl's question when Vestiago bellowed from the kitchen and beat her to it, so she opted for a different tack. "Good morning, Isabelle. I trust you found the accommodations suitable?"

When Solomon spoke, she returned his arched eyebrow with a coolly neutral gaze and the barest hint of a smile on her lips. He was trying to strike back at her with her own tactics. How cute. "Some of us prefer the safety of anonymity to that of numbers. Especially when the others that allegedly keep them safe do not trust them in return." Only then did her own eyebrow arch, as if to challenge him for a response. She did so enjoy verbal duels. If you had a worthy opponent, they could be nearly as exciting as the physical ones. She glanced at the tea, but decided against drinking. With the sheer number of vials arrayed about Solomon's person, she wouldn't be surprised if simply placing the cup near him allowed it to become toxic. She didn't much fancy the idea of being sick in bed for the next month.

"I did. Until the bell started ringing." She smiled, but the irritation was still plain on her face, and since she didn't know (she suspected Hawk, but had no proof) who had actually done the bell-ringing (and thus had no one to pointedly glare at), she allowed an irritated huff to suffice. She didn't pay much attention to the conversations swirling around her; she'd never been a morning person, and if the only thing the "grown-ups" (she was technically an adult herself, but she was definitely the youngest in the group) wanted to do was try to out-talk each other, she had no interest in participating. Besides, as far as she could tell, none of them were talking about her or the coming mission, so it probably wasn't important to her anyway. She yawned and stretched in her chair. It was times like these that she missed her days in the orphanage: it might have been a dirty existence, but she had had friends to play with and talk to. Now it was just a bunch of grumpy old men (and Cora, who did seem nice) seeing who could puff out their chest further. Absently, she poured a cup of tea and sipped it slowly, bringing both legs up on the table as she did so.