Vat-Katari couldn't help but admire his own work of clearing out the building with little more than a vague threat and hard glare, if he wasn't careful there would be no way for him to set sail with the weight of his massive ego. Luckily before his head got too big from his self indulgence his attention was grabbed by one of the few souls that decided to stay despite his less than inviting words. It was the fellow that he pegged as a Vint not too long ago and Vat-Katari had to admit that that feeling still stuck with him as he listened to the young man's brief introduction and even briefer explanation of his skills. Luckily for the both of them Vat-Katari didn't hold the same grudge against Tevinter and its people his Qun fallowing Kinsman did, and even luckier Vat-Katari understood the need of having someone that knew how to handle herbs and could serve as a crew's doctor. "Well I have to say Ser you make quite the impression and if you aren't just talking out of your arse I think you'll do just fine here." He said with his crooked grin to Rili and gestured to one of the free seats at his table.

It wasn't long after he had welcomed the not so much alchemist to the table that Vat-Katari noticed the small side conversation going on amongst his would be crew. Again Vat-Katari had to keep himself from stroking his own ego over his correct predictions, it seemed that small barbs were already being exchanged among the others in regards to his first mate position. Though he stood by his word of choosing to hold off on picking someone from just hearsay Vat-Katari was interested to see how his crew could handle with a little competition, he found that it was good to have people at his back that actually had drive rather than a bunch of yes men. Though at the moment it seemed that everyone was playing a game of wicked grace and hiding their hand, a game that Vat-Katari never found a liking for, but he managed to tolerate it for now.

It was then that Vat-Katari's attention was drawn to, more along the lines demanded, by the Tal-Vashoth that had taken a seat at his table earlier. Keeping to the stereotype that followed their people his fellow Tal-Vashoth spoke a simple sentence, that honestly Vat-Katari hadn't a nug's ass of a idea of what he meant by it until he then demonstrated. Blunt and to the point, Vat-Katari almost felt like he was back on Seheron talking to this one. "Good with a bow eh? That's nice, but we aren't on Par Vollen any more brother I'll need more than just your job to take you aboard. How about we start with your name." He said as he nodded back to the seat the Tal-Vashoth stood from.

"Are you sure about this?" A somewhat concerned voice spoke towards the Elf known as Gerith.
The man whom had just spoken was none other than the Commander of the mercenary company called the "Vermilion sabers", a once well respected and well known band of Mercs that has recently come into hard times after a war with another band of Mercs.

"Of course I am, I owe both you and the rest of you guys..."
The commander began shaking his head and was about to cut Gerith off before he himself stopped the Commander from saying anything.
"I do owe you, we didn't get my contract... but it cost you a lot to fight this war, I know because I was there every step of the way; I'm doing this both as a part of this group, and as a friend - you've done more for me than anybody else has through out my life..."
Gerith turned his back on the Commander and began walking towards the exit. "This is just one step on the path to me paying you back for what you've done."

No further words were spoken as he left the building, Gerith was a man whom was very set in his ways, and when he set out to do something - then that was exactly what he done.
He had heard about a line of work that paid pretty well and would certainly benefit him from the experience it offered.
Piracy was certainly something that was rife through out the Waking sea, it turned a decent amount of sovereigns, assuming competent people done it - and of course the Captain was liberal in his payment of the crew.
It took Gerith about 30 minutes to get from the area in Lowtown that he was in to the first set of stairs that led up to Hightown.
It was a place he was quite familiar with actually, probably something that was uncommon for the likes of himself.
Turns out that a lot of the nobles in Hightown get up to some dirty stuff in their downtime, and they need people with them that are paid to keep their mouths shut about what they get up to.
Your level of discretion oddly became a staple on whether or not some noble wold hire you out or not.

The blooming rose was one of those high level establishments that had whores on offer - not the level most scum in Lowtown could afford that's for sure.
But petty nobles, merchants, Templars and soldier types were commonly found here.
Stopping just out side of the whorehouse Gerith sighed deeply, the sounds of both merriment and laughter could be heard inside, it would be the first time, in quite some time that he had set foot in a place like this - women made Gerith uncomfortable, they were generally easier to best on the field of battle, but outside of battle it was a different story, masters of deception and intrigue, and especially manipulation.
They had a lot in common with demons and he kept away from them as such.

But, this was only a short stop, so Gerith would have to tough it out.
After entering the establishment his senses had a slight overload, an aromatic fusion hit his nostrils a mixture of chrysanthemums and roses, and with that there was also the smell of booze and sweat.
The sight was rather breathtaking, in the entrance hall at any rate, an immaculate white marble that was draped in a blood red velvet, the floors were tiled with a dark grey basalt that had several rugs made from a fine crimson cloth; it also had a very intricate design upon it.
Overall, it was clear that this was a place in Hightown, and it was meant to meet the standards of high paying customers.

Gerith entered the bar area and he instantly spotted his new employer; at least for a time, the unmistakable horns that adorned the hulking figures skull could only belong to a Qunari, he appeared to be one of the last there out of the recruits for the crew, there appeared to be a decent number of them already.

Gerith made his way to the table and spoke to the Qunari captain. "I hope I'm not too late yo join your crew? I had to deal with some business before I got here."
Taking a bow he addressed himself "I am Gerith'Talmerrin, Elven Warrior and member of the mercenary band called the "Vermilion Sabers, at your service."

In all honesty Vat-Katari was not expect much of a response from his Tal-Vashoth kinsman, having lived among them for so many years Vat-Katari had long since learned that those who truly use to follow the Qun never quite became the talkative sort. But even before the little response that he was expecting from the Tal-Vashoth archer with a funny take on the term throw pillow was given Vat-Katari's attention was called to yet another would be applicant to his little crew. He was quite the bulky looking elf and judging by his army had the actual strength to back up his appearance, well on one side of his body at least. The living mound of muscle and horns that was Vat-Katari couldn't help but crack a smile at the elf's introduction, he had mercenary written all over him even without having to bring up his band's name. Vat-Katari had heard of the elf's merc group before, they weren't anything too big but differently weren't any push overs from what he had heard. Vat-Katari was always able to respect someone who knew their way around the blade, but he also knew that cutting ties with someone's past always came with complications so this elf suddenly jumping ship from his crew raised some suspicion in the Tal-Vashoth. "Vermilion Blades eh, heard a few things about you lot, mostly good so you're in luck." Vat-Katari said before he cracked his crooked grin and offered a seat for Gerith to sit in. "Names Vat-Katari, but like I told the rest of this lot if that is too hard for you to say Vat can do for now. Oh and for future reference you can drop the Elven warrior part of your greeting, the ears and shield give that away already." He finished with a hearty laugh.

---

It is hard to believe that time can fly as one sits among a table of battle hardened warriors, underhanded cut throats, and silvered tongue manipulators, but that is exactly what had happened in that quaint little whorehouse. Vat-Katari had no true idea how much time had passed, listening to the wave of introductions that were given to him threw the Tal-Vashoth's internal clock off quite a bit, that and he was quite enjoying the banter that was brewing amongst the little band that was forming. As content as he was with wasting more time in the whore house exchanging barbs and laughs Vat-Katari wanted to see if this crew could live up to the promises that they have made, besides he knew there was coin to be made. He rose from his chair, his massive size easily drawing the attention of those around him. "Alright you lot we all know words are nice but they are only worth nug shite without actions to actually back them up. With that in mind I have a little... test of sorts." He said before he pulled out a rolled up piece of paper out of a pouch the was tied to his belt. He practically slammed it down on to the table it unrolling as he did so, revealing a map of the infamous wounded coast. "Some of you may know about the Wounded Coast, that hoarded stretch of beach that isn't far off from here." As he spoke he traced his finger along the map outlining the actual coast. "Some of you may have also heard of the Carta, those Dwarves that are known for their... less than upfront dealings." He said before looking back up and over everyone who had gathered. "The roamer in Darktown is that the Carta lost shipment of lyrium to a group of raiders and are offering a good chuck of coin for its return." He said before he pointed to a small island on the map not far off from the wounded coast. "And I happen to know that those raiders are currently held up on this island." As he spoke a wicked grin formed on his lips. "Simple job if you ask me. Set sail, crack a few skulls, get paid by the Carta. Worse comes to worse we can sell what we find at the island at the next port we dock in. So who feels like getting their hands a little dirty?" He finished with a huge grin that couldn't intimidate a demon and a laugh that could practically shake the very building.

Vash said nothing for a long while, even under order to give his name. He watched and listened to the rest, stoic as a storm. Finally, after the map was unfurled, he spoke up with his name as he put his weapon away.

Vash, no clan, I gave myself the last name Crowbow.

---

As the rest of the introductions went underway, Feri raised an eyebrow in surprise upon hearing Rannon's little speech.

"The Blight? Suppose I shouldn't be surprised; most Fereldan's dealt with that particular shitstorm. Still, 'tis an impressive thing to overcome." She thought, regarding the soldier carefully. Now, she recalled him vaguely from being a guard. Feri had ran into trouble with them on more than one occasion, what with her particular skill-set not being used in legal lines of work, generally. She'd met the fierce, red-headed Guard-Captain, and even shared a few sardonic quips with the woman before being let off on a warning. Feri couldn't recall what exactly she'd done to raise the Guard-Captain's ire, but clearly the two women saw similarities in each other. That time, she was let off easy. Other times, Feri had to rely on how fast her legs could carry her, and sneakiness to avoid trouble... most of the time, that didn't work. Sure, she could run fast... for a half-dwarf with small legs, that is.

Anyway, she had seen Rannon and his hound more than once in Kirkwall, patrolling the streets. Naturally, she never had prolonged contact - she made a point to avoid both the guards and the Templars, considering how much work she'd taken on from hidden apostates in the city.

As for their future-Captain, this Vat-Katari, she nodded in agreement to his words. If he'd just handed over the job to her on a silver platter, Feri would be having second thoughts about joining the company in the first place. Clearly, he was wanting proof of her abilities... which in turn proved that Vat had brains and was willing and eager to use them. The perfect combination for a Captain, in her opinion. The fact that he then reiterated the same comment to Rannon (Ignoring the "pint-sized" comment about herself; not that she was offended, by all means. She enjoyed it when people made fun of her height - usually it meant they were underestimating her. Besides, she wasn't entirely devoid of humour like her cynical side showed.), only reinforced that fact.

After this came a Tevinter mage (She'd visited Tevinter more than once; unlike the stories many in Thedas heard, she'd seen only normalcy in the place. Well, there were Mages running about unchecked, but Feri didn't particularly have qualms about Mages and magic), and yet another Qunari, this one missing horns. She watched the display with the bow and arrow with an unimpressed expression - archers were a dime a dozen; she was more interested in where this Qunari had come from, and why in the name of the Black City he'd cut his horns off.

At this, the red-headed woman at the table spoke to both Rannon and herself; an Orlesian.
Now, Orlesians weren't normally at the top of Feri's "Favourite things" list. Visitng the ports in Orlais had always been an exhausating exchange, what with dealers and nobles squabbling with her Father about prices and stocks. The cities had been beautiful, but far too extravagent for Feri's tastes; and the more she heard about the infamous "Game" made her more confused and irritated by it. If you want to ruin someone's estate, just rob or kill them, don't plot for months and months to try and ruin them, by spreading rumours at ridiculously expensive masquerade balls.

Regardless of this, Feri kept that too herself. She was hardly one to discriminate against things one could not control - this Evelyn did not chose where she grew up, after all. Feri instead listened to her words, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she finished off her second mug of ale.

"Still playing the Game, I see. It'll take more than carefully chosen words to cast doubt in my heart, friend." Feri thought to herself - wondering just what the motives of the Orlesian was. Perhaps to see if she and Rannon were up to the job? A worthy goal, she could admit. Listening in on Rannon's reply, she directed her gaze towards Evelyn.

"Couldn't have put it better myself. I don't claim to be the best at anything - if someone does better than me at the job, I'll defer to them - if it's best for the crew, that is. The crew is the most important part of the ship, not the Captain, nor the First Mate. Whatever's best for everyone, I'll bow to it... hopefully our Captain knows the same." She stated, pouring yet another drink. Feri was pleased to see Rannon wasn't insistent on blowing his own trumpet - she'd met far too many people who boasted of their exploits, only for them to fall when their supposed skills were needed the most.

Rannon glanced at the curious Dwarf-like woman, and gave a nod. He wasn't entirely sure if she would agree with him, but it seemed like they were on the same mindset on the subject. The soldier glanced downward at Gideon who was lounging on the floor. The Mabari glanced up at his master, tongue out and happy as can be. Rannon glanced at Feri and then Gideon, as if to ask him whether she was trustworthy. Gideon tilted his head as if to go 'You got me'.

It was then that the most curious Elven warrior strode into the Tavern and approached their would-be captain. He'd never heard of a Gerith'Talmerrin, but the Vermillion Sabers were known to him. Rannon had an interest with mercenary groups, based upon paranoia, but admittedly, he thought the life in such groups might be endearing as well. He was here for this job, after all. Rannon did not betray any emotion as the Elf spoke to the Captain, but his iron eyes were set on him. Years of hard fighting had given Rannon a sixth sense when spotting a formidable warrior.

By the time Gerith had appeared, Ferirev was onto her fifth drink and her mood was pleasant. As he introduced himself, her mood was not quite so pleasant.

"Oh perfect... of all the bloody Elves to show up." She muttered under her breath, quiet enough for no-one except perhaps Rannon and Evelyn beside her to hear it. She'd ran into this Gerith before, back when she'd done some freelance work for that particular mercenary group. They'd been a good enough outfit, and he had done his work well enough... but the two had fought like cat and dog, from what she remembered.

And Feri was not pleased to see him here.

Electing to ignore the elf for now, Feri instead indulged in the light banter and the free drinks provided by the Captain - and was more than pleased to see him get down to business with the unfurling of a map.

"The Carta? You'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not have heard about those bastards in a city like Kirkwall." She thought to herself as Vat described his plan. She had attempted to avoid the Carta as much as possible in her stay in the Free Marches, but as for most freelance Mercnaries, she came into contact with them eventually. The majority of Carta are Dwarves, closely linked with the Merchant's Guild, and in turn the Kalnas on the surface. Being half-Dwarven, she wanted to avoid the traditional and almost tyrannical ideals that came with the Carta - thankfully, in the few times she'd worked with them, they hadn't been too bothered about her heritage. Most who came across her simply took her for a tall Dwarf or short Human anyway.

As it happened, those jobs have involved lyrium smuggling. It wasn't the first time she'd done a smuggling job - half of the jobs a Pirate takes on is smuggling, really - but in a place like Kirkwall, it was always a bit... tense. Especially with her affiliations with the apostates. Still, she'd never run into much trouble on those jobs, and this was a familiar notion for her; good, for the first job under this Captain's rule.

Looking at the map where Vat had pointed, her eyes darted towards another island; Brandel's Reach. The largest island in the Waking Sea, and too close to where she had lost everything. Feri's brow tightened at this thought, and with a light clench of her fists beneath the table, chased it away. Now was not the time.

Shaking the feeling of loss from her, Feri darted a wry smile towards Vat.
"I have some contacts left in the Carta - if they're not willing to be reasonable, I'm sure I can persuade them to see otherwise. Still, if you can get better deal elsewhere, I can hardly complain." She was being truthful - despite how she tried to limit contact with the Carta, she had made some allies. She was pretty sure plenty of them just wanted to sleep with her (Still unknowing about her mixed blood - Feri was certain that if the Carta knew, they'd probably avoid all contact with her, be it business or pleasure), but some had let her know about jobs, deals, and the like in the past. That could potentially come in handy on this venture.

The Fereldan soldier had some experience with Dwarves back in his homeland, but they were a stark contrast to the Carta he'd come to know the past year or two in Kirkwall. He supposed Dwarves were just like men in many ways. Some were honorable, and others were bastards through and through. Back during the blight he had fought beside a few noteworthy Dwarves that he was proud to call comrades.

Kirkwall and the Carta were an entirely different matter. As a city guard, he'd had enough of their backstabbings and dealings. He wasn't very excited to be working for their stolen coin, he had to admit. If he met any of them on this venture, he almost wished a few would recognize his face for messing up a few of their operations before. He'd enjoy breaking their noses one more time.

Despite his hesitance at aiding the Carta, he knew he was very suited for the job they were asked to perform. Killing criminals was what he did best. He had a particular distaste for dishonesty and the like, but he was pragmatic when it came to fighting. Whatever it took to win, Rannon would perform. It's why he was so good at his job. He might not be a rogue, but war was dirty. He'd learned that long ago.

"Sounds like my kind of job." he finally said aloud, his powerful voice carrying across the table. His foot nudged Gideon. "Same with this one. We'll be ready whenever you are." His mind then began to whirl with possibilities on strategy. He needed to at least ask a few questions. The soldier leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, his chin just above his intertwined hands. "Do we know anything about these raider? If they're mages or rogues? I'm curious of we have a layout or at least a vague sense of what kind of hideway they're holding up in." Perhaps Feri or Evelyn could use their skills to open up the front gate from within, or find a backdoor. He'd rather not charge in under crossbow fire (not that he hasn't done just that before). He glanced at either of them as he thought to himself, then at the two Qunari. He might have to bash a door or two down along with them.

Feri had some skill with lockpicks, but not enough to consider herself a pro - she had always preferred to be in the middle of a fray than breaking locks and finding some way out of a place. Still, if need be, she'd be happy to stick to some lock-picking if the case arose.

"If these raiders are the ones I've usually ran into along the Wounded Coast, they won't have many - if any - Mages with them. I'd be more worried about archers; they'll likely be up on ridges, so they can flank anyone foolish enough to stumble into their island." Pausing with a somewhat wicked grin, Feri's eyes turned to the rest of the crew. "Of course, if we flank them first, they won't know what's hit them."

Rannon grinned at that last remark. Too true he thought to himself, and the crew was off towards the docks. Of course, as per usual when people dine in, a few were more impatient to leave than others. Rannon and Gideon found themselves just outside the brothel next to Feri. Rannon stood head and shoulders taller than her, with his strong arms crossed in front of him as he gazed around the busy street in front.

Gideon wobbled up to sit between them, and sat down. He looked to Feri, sniffed her, then gave an audible yawn aimed at Rannon. The soldier glanced down. "Hmmm?" The Mabari whined again. "Gideon..." Another noise followed. Rannon opened his mouth, then shut it. The Fereldan man then sighed, and decided to be out with it. "Pointing out how short her legs are isn't nice. Your legs are short too." Judging by the way Rannon had a glint in his eye, it was hard to tell if this was what Gideon was truly communicating or not.

Feri had looked on incredulously at the exchange between Rannon and Gideon - surely he couldn't actually understand what the hound was saying? Feri had heard plenty of stories involving the intelligence of Mabari hounds, and in most places she had visited in Thedas the legend was that Fereldans could understand the beasts. Still, she was unsure as to whether she believed it or not.

"My legs are just the right size for my height, I'll have you know." She retorted, looking more to the dog than Rannon. "I mean, just imagine how ridiculous I'd look if I had tree-trunks for legs like your friend here." This was said with a sly smile, and a glint of her own in her green eyes as they darted back to Rannon.

Rannon raised an eyebrow and glanced her way, making eye contact before he rubbed his chin and looked elsewhere in a mockingly nonchalant manner. "I'm thinking I hear jealousy, Gideon. It'll be too bad once we're in combat. She'll get jealous of my skills too." For some reason the saucy Feri was endearing to Rannon. Probably because he hadn't had someone to quip with for a long time. When he was in the army, he spoke little. He was blunt and to the point in almost all circumstances in fact, but it was with his late comrades where he let could mete out the sarcasm.

"Nice to see this one isn't boring. Nothing worse than having a crewmate with a stick shoved up his arse." This approving thought wouldn't be stated out loud, but Feri could see she was going to get along just fine with this Rannon. Unless, he suddenly said something stupid like "Slavery isn't all bad", or "I kill every Tevinter scumbag I see because they're all arseholes". Still, he appeared to be a decent sort of fellow, and one with some sort of brains between his ears - such statements, she thought, were not likely to be voiced.

"Oh, jealousy? Poor Gideon, being Rannon's only friend he can talk to. Makes me wonder what else he does with his precious doggy. I've heard stories about you Fereldans." Her smile was now a full-blown, teasing grin. Normally a rare sight to see, but when she was caught in a teasing match, it usually showed itself when she was feeling pleased about it.

He looked down at her, his posture a bit more relaxed now. He couldn't help but share her grin. He admitted he was having some fun messing around with this exotic woman. He let out a chuckle. "Do you believe everything you hear? I thought rogues were supposed to be clever." Despite himself, there was a playful twinkle in his eyes, which made them look all the more like the iron color they represented. He shook his head."Too bad too, and I here I was thinking you'd be impressive."

The soldier leaned back against the wall casually, hands behind his head and a foot up against the stone. Gideon knelt beside his other foot planted on the ground, panting happily and being content with sitting for the time being. "Might need to tell the captain we need a more talented scoundrel." he breathed, casual.

Eyes narrowing somewhat in amusement, Feri's hands moved to rest on her hips, fingers ever so lazily tracing the hilt of her daggers, attached to her belt.

"Brave words, coming from someone who hasn't seen me fight just yet. The things I can do with my knives..." As it happened, those things were not quite as pleasant as the sultry tone in her voice was leading on. "You warriors with your big swords are all well and good, but by the time you've hefted that monster high enough to deal a blow, I've already dug my knives into your liver." Now stood a step or so in front of him, Feri's head tilted up to look him in his steely eyes. The top of her head perhaps reached his shoulders, so the difference wasn't overly ridiculous - unlike their Captain, whom she'd likely need a ladder to get eye-to-eye with.

"Perhaps we should test our mettle against each other in a sparring match; speed versus strength. Using staves, of course - I'd hate to hurt you." Said with a low chuckle, Feri's eyes roamed Rannon's body, noticing the hilt of a kinfe peeking out of his right boot. "So Soldier Boy isn't completely clueless then..."

The warrior raised an eyebrow at the woman. He'd heard that tone before, but not from a woman wanting to fight. It was attractive as hell if he had to be honest, but even past that, as a fighter he'd never pass up any kind of challenge.

He'd mainly fought Darkspawn throughout his life, though he'd also had his fair share of encounters with bandits. No two fighters were the same, but he wasn't unfamiliar with the way a rogue fought. "You're on." he said, looking her right in the eyes.

Gideon perked up and looked between them, and then leaped up happily. Rannon did his best to hide a smirk, but it still slipped past him. Guess his old friend wanted to be apart of a brawl too. "Sorry Giddy, adults only." he said, his eyes not leaving Feri's.

"Hah! As if I could take him and the dog on at the same time. Of course, Rannon here doesn't need to know that." Feri ahd to admit to herself, she liked the look in the Fereldan's eyes. Competiveness, in a refreshing manner - most of the time in fights the look was condescending; amused; under-estimating. She could tell Rannon was sizing her up as he would any other foe; perhaps with a little less intimidation, that was.

"The second we get the chance, I'll show you how speed always beats -" She paused, noticing Gerith in her periphreal vision. At this, her smile dropped to a grimace, eyes narrowing into a scowl. "...strength. Ugh..."

Feeling what was likely a questioning gaze from Rannon, Feri sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. "As you may have noticed, I don't like the Elf. We've worked together before; a fine fighter. Complete bastard when you talk to him though." She explained sourly. Well... he'd always been a bastard talking to her, that was.

The tall soldier glanced to the side at the approaching Elf. He looked formidable enough, and as second nature, Rannon's mind quickly deduced ways of fighting him. But Feri's words caught his ear, and he did give her a questioning gaze. His head even tilted like a curious dog. "Not my kind of bastard?" he asked jokingly, referring to their banter.

He looked at the Elf more openly now, his gaze not aggressive, but not exactly welcoming either. "I've never seen him before, honestly. Though I know about the Sabers. I've had some run ins with a few, like I have with the Carta." Saying that, he realized just how much shit he's been through, even in the past 6 months.

At that point, Feri was uncomfortably reminded of Rannon's previous occupation. Chances were good that they'd been on opposite sides of fights before now; or at the very least, she'd fought against some of his comrades. She'd never gravely wounded or killed a Guard - they were just doing their jobs, and Feri wouldn't forgive herself for killing an innocent man over that.

"I've done some freelance work for both outfits. Smuggling, mainly." She replied in a somewhat clipped tone - she wasn't happy with all the work she'd done, but it had never been immoral enough for her to lose sleep at night. Also, some weeks she'd be forced to take a job, or she wouldn't eat.

Hopefully Rannon wouldn't hold that against her - being a mercenary didn't fully define one's personality, after all.

Probably to her surprise, he nodded in approval. "At least you admit it. Most bastards would swear on their mother's graves they've never been involved in stuff like that. Plus I got no room to judge. We're both mercs now it seems. Gotta keep two bellies fed after all." he said, and Gideon barked in agreement.

To Rannon, blunt and to the point was the way to go. He didn't mind using any means to fight, but dishonesty was generally for cowards in his opinion, unless it was to protect someone you loved. He doubt he'd lie for anyone but Gideon.