Blackness consumed Izaka's mind, darkness lending to the sense of calm that only rarely crossed the mercenaries' mind. His features were at a neutral rest, something unheard of in the waking hours; it was only during the unconsciousness of sleep that he could truly be at peace, the waking days brought to many hardships. When the soldier felt the touch of hands on his shoulders, his eyes darted open, mind reacting urgently; were they being attacked? For a good thirty seconds he remained alert, even as Akira explained the situation, only relaxing when he'd heard her story in it's entirety. Her concern had as much merit as it did misdirection: either she was right and things were about to take a turn for the worse or the both of them were about to lose out on precious hours of sleep. "If what you say is true, then we'd best waste no time."

Izaka rose quickly, feet shuffling to the side as his hands lay claim to discarded armor; breast-plate, vambraces, greaves and weapon were secured in something close to a minute, each finger working tirelessly in practiced motions that seemed more mechanical than human, that's all he was these days: a machine. With gear in tow, the man was just about to exit the shack, only to hesitate at the door. Chocolate hues locked upon Maria's forgotten vestments and, making a quick decision, the mercenary procured them, securing the heavy equipment to his back as best as possible, still, carrying two sets of armor was going to slow him down by some degrees.

Exiting the shack, Izaka's attention turned back to his companion and he spoke for the first time since rising from the bed. "I trust you have some notion as to their location?" He supposed Akira knew just about as much as he did about the bandits in question, but it never hurt to ask. Before the elf could answer however, the warrior's flickering eyes caught sight of some disturbance in the distance, optics narrowing as his lips curled into something of a frown. [i]"Please stop shouting!"[/i] His ears confirmed his suspicions, eyes drawn towards the distinctive wear of the two strangers; there's no way he'd mistake Marren's run down garb. As for the female accompanying the corsair, he could not make her out, the likelihood was Maria but it was a strained guess, they'd have to approach for confirmation. Turning to his companion Izaka could only arch a brow, silently questioning her as of yet unvalidated urgency.