Rolf glanced at the image in the fire as he stood to face the newest arrival. 

"Finding somewhere else might not be an option," he mused alllowed, watching the circle converge on the miniature camp in the fire. 

"Our mutual friend the mask advises us to do nothing. Very well, I will have faith, and if there's to be a fellowship, it will have the sword of the Ashfoots."

He drew the smaller of the two swords from the hip of his armor, but merely stood with the point in the ground and his hands resting on the pommel.