[h2][right][color=#a8a9ad][b]Osric Griswall[/b][/color][/right][/h2] [hr] “Well, lets not forget each other so soon. It would be good to keep an eye on each other during the mission.” said Osric. He took a sip of the mushroom wine. It was sweet. Compared to some of the other questionable ingredients used in cooking, this was one that didn’t deter his taste towards it. Besides, he liked mushrooms. “From what I can tell, we’re going to be on the road for a while. And while I might not have been there myself, I’ve heard my fair share about Tretagor. Especially since arriving in Westernant a bit ago.” Osric downed the cup of wine, leaving the glass on the table. Osric noticed as someone else caught Ludvig’s attention. That or he was deep in his own thoughts and walked over to a chair and sat down. He settled into his seat and pulled out his rifle, giving it another quick inspection. He didn’t care about politics, so he didn’t invest himself in the conversation with the noble woman and the inquisitor. Shortly after, the archbishop returned with another. A nun? Initially she looked like one, but it quickly became apparent she was not. Furthermore, her behavior and her appearance didn’t seem to go hand in hand. For one she was as reverend as the clergy. For another, her vestments were adorned with spikes, iron by the looks of it. A lot sharper than one would expect a woman of faith. Then was her introduction. The way she worded it, she seemed to be of some rapport. Osric took a moment to see if he could remember anyone by the name Amaris. One came to mind, but he tossed the idea out. The way this girl was speaking and acting, she couldn’t have been behind the massacre that took place almost ten years ago. Regardless, Osric stood from his chair and cleared his throat, “Hello there. My name is Osric, gun for hire. Having another set of hands brings me that much more comfort. There is safety in numbers.”