The satyr could tell they didn't believe him. All this distrust over a small joke? Or was there a little prejudice involved? One dwarf seemed to take his side, but the other dwarf seemed all against him. The satyr turned to the salty dwarf, whom he realized barely came up to his waist.

"I'm not sure of an exact number, but enough that the forest dwellers have given up fighting them. Captured and murdered an innocent nymph, I stopped going that way." There seemed to be a bit of sadness in his statement. The escapist that he was, the satyr would rather not face his problems. Evading them was much easier. But when he stopped to dwell on it: his home being invaded by horrific monsters, his friends being tortured and killed just for wandering too close, the feeling of helplessness at the inability to fight them and just hoping they move on soon...

"I would say in the hundreds, for sure. Your party could try to fight them, but I watched a herd of centaurs try the same and die. They have blades that aren't the crude norm for such beasts; probably stolen."

Thranok smiled at the Satyr, displaying his own hint of mischief. "Hundreds, aye?" he said with a chuckle. "So, a dozen then? That be 'bout right." The Dwarf lowered his axe with a grunt. "Best yer come with us though, eh? That way, if yer lead us into an ambush, there be a chance that this Elf lass," he continued, nodding towards the Elf, "could plant an arra' in yer back 'fore yer a chance to merrily prance off to the sounds 'o us fightin' yer trickery personified."

Turning to the Elf and the other Dwarf, Thranok indicated the Dragonborn with his free hand. "So we be half way to solvin' this mess, but what'a 'bout 'im over there. Reckon he worth enlistin'? Can never 'ave enough swords, me father always be sayin'."

"I wouldn't hesitate to put an arrow through him if it came to it, I assure you." the Elf muttered, shifting her weight from foot to foot restlessly as her gaze flicked from Thranok to the lizard man. He certainly was strange...she had to confess she hadn't ever seen a creature like that before in her life. Perhaps they weren't all that 'at home' in forests and woodlands, that might explain it.

Meliya's gaze travelled up and down the dragonborn as her keen eyes studied him closely, the grade of his armor and the kind of weapon he carried was her best chance at trying to decipher who, or what, he was. "W-Well..." though she tried, as she spoke again she was unable to keep the nervous stutter from her voice. "...I mean, what the hell is he, exactly?! Looks like a giant, bipedal lizard or something...seems intelligent enough though, no offense meant." she added quickly in the dragonborn's direction. He was intimidating enough looking as it was, and she had no doubt he probably would have the strength advantage if it came to blow by blow, too. "Since he clearly knows how to wear armor and carry a weapon...Might make it difficult to find lodgings though, if we took him with." she pointed out. "People might be afraid of him and rather run away than take the chance with a bipedal reptile."

Originally disheartened at his companions disregard for his input, he quickly had to realize that without the inclinations into ones motives like he had there was nothing to suggest that this satyr was trustworthy; in fact there was plenty of evidence to the contrary! Part of him was still even wary despite having a good idea that the satyr was truthful in his warnings because trying to put someone you just met to sleep is not a great way to build trust. Listening to his companions talk about ignoring the satyr's warnings worried him, if he was indeed truthful in his warnings, like Icarus believed, then is new companions could be put in serious danger. Unfortunately it did not look like there was much he could do to prevent this..

At this point part of Icarus was tempted to take the path the satyr suggested to avoid such conflict.. but.. he scanned his companions and knew that even though he had just met them, he had a gift, a gift that he could use for good and to change the way people saw others like him in this world. Knowing that conflict was ahead was frightening for someone as young and inexperienced as Icarus, but where else would his gift be needed the most? Clenching his fist and reflecting on this he was suddenly stirred from his thoughts when the dwarf brought up the mail clad warrior who had wandered into the camp during the middle of this whole event. He had remained quite through most of the chaos and during the conversation the group was having about him, strange, maybe he was the more inquisitive type.. or maybe, Icarus chuckled at this, just shy, unlikely for someone dressed as boldly for combat as he was. Hearing the group questioning acquiring his help for the possible battle ahead Icarus beat down the resignation he felt the last time he was dismissed when he spoke and dared enter the conversation again.

"Perhaps..", he started looking at all them, "you are all right. I am quite young by dwarf's standards and naive by, well.. pretty much the worlds standards and perhaps too trusting of this satyr. You are certainly more experienced in these matters I'm sure and if you believe there to be an ambush ahead then I would be more inclined to trust your opinion over mine, and..", Icarus hated lying, but how could he explain his intuitions without being labeled with the stigma so many that had his gift were labeled with? So he took the passive route and resolved that even if he couldn't prevent his caravan from entering into this coming battle, he would use his gift to help protect them.. A cold sweat came upon his brow at the thought of the future chaos and he calmingly patted the books on his side wondering whether is mother had to make the same choices during her travels.

"and..", he finally continued, "then I too believe an extra blade, especially one that looks as experienced and ready as him, would be handy in the fight, but that doesn't necessarily mean we have to take him, or that he even wants to, come all the way to town with us. We could simply thank him for his help during our combat, and part ways if he so wishes afterwards, but" Icarus nodded at the warrior then faced the elf, "if it concerns you what others may thing of him, then you can simply enter town at different times then him to avoid association with him in the eyes of the villagers. Yet judging by his armor he may be a cleric of someone kind, correct me if I'm mistaken," he adds to the dragon born, "and I feel as if we have no fear of worrying of associating ourselves with someone of that honorable position."