Leon listened to the speech, staying near the back of the assembled hirelings and often looking around the camp to see who else might be watching the 'newcomers'. He had heard similar speeches a dozen times over the years, usually a bit cruder and consisting more of amputating body parts or being tortured as opposed to official execution. Do what the big dog said, when they said it, and to the best of your ability. Or else. 

Being paid by merit had little draw for him, as long as he had access to food, water, and a protected space where he could catch some sleep, he knew Mask would provide everything else he needed. He cast a look over his fellow hirelings, idly wondering how many of them were trying to wager the odds of being caught thieving against the stashed loot of a bunch of soldiers hiding out in the woods. Fortunately, the ambush with the bandits would serve as an early reminder that few individuals could prosper out here on their own. 

"Coin or glory, we're all here for our own reasons," Leon said, speaking up a bit, "and I'm sure those reasons are the same as any upstanding citizen of the Dalelands looking for an honorable way to restore the proper order... Regardless, we are here now and after the events on the road are eager to see this job get started so we can begin counting our coin or the many ways we are so proud to serve Lord Hastlon." There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice, but never more than a touch. 

"Where do we bunk? And when do we get our new orders?," he asked.