“There is no corner of my heart I would not turn over to save the lives of the innocent. No secret kept, no resource withheld. In the sight of blessed Reina, let it be known that I would do all this and more to mend their flesh and ease their suffering. Without witness, without hope, without reward. All of this is rather waxing poetic to say something at its heart quite prosaic: I did not have to mention any of this. It would have been much safer for me had I not. Whatever questions you have, whatever judgements about my character that you make, remember how much I have sacrificed already for the sake of these innocent people, and know that I would sacrifice yet more to save them.” Irah said, her mien thoughtful and gaze suddenly distant. When Tedwyn spoke up at the mention of “reward”, her serene bearing regained the fury she had been suppressing earlier and she shot him a glare that could only be described as withering.

“Your reward is the knowledge that your inadequacy and cowardice shall betray you from within for so long as you live. You will get what you contributed: nothing.” she spoke, her tone suddenly venomous and heated. If there was one thing that she truly could not stand, it was a lack of principle: indeed, that was partially what had motivated her to be so forthcoming. Even after having known them for only minutes, really, Deo’Irah could tell that Sirs Yanin and Freagon were truly principled people, with beliefs that might be unknown to her, but whose dedication to those beliefs was evident. Everyone in the room, barring Tedwyn, had come together in a time of crisis to enact the one thing truly required of the strong: to protect the weak. Her heart might otherwise have fluttered with trepidation at the notion of being so unusually forthcoming, but something about these people… she felt among kindred spirits, she supposed. Not unlike another collective of people she was proud to be a part of.

With that delivered, she brushed herself off and gave Lhirin a gentle guiding pat on the arm not tracing over the pages of the journal to direct him while he read. It would not be the first time that she’d had to guide him while he was utterly engrossed by some knowledge promised from a tome–it certainly would not be the last, either. She took a few steps towards the exit before halting, waiting for everything to resolve before she actually visited the stagecoach to gather her things.

Quintin, Vela and Jaelnec all looked somewhat taken aback by the sheer intensity of Irah's reaction to Tedwyn's claim, whereas Tedwyn himself simply stood petrified and shifty eyed as his pretentious smile slowly faded.
Then the penin woman let out a small chuckle. “Tell you what, Tedwyn: go back to Bor Manor and help the others clean up the place. Tell them why you're there. If I come back and my people tell me you did a good job, then I'll reward you. I don't think we need you here.”
Though he was clearly trying his very hardest not to break character and continue to present himself as a jovial and confident adventurer, Tedwyn did looked a little deflated as he opened his mouth to speak, only to fail to produce any words. Instead he just croaked slightly, cleared his throat, nodded his head, turned on his heel and left without a word.
“As for the rest of you,” the baroness continued once the civilian in their midst had been dismissed. “You may not need a reward, but you're helpin' me so I'm gonna offer one regardless. I'll give you another four hundred rodlin for defeatin' the bandits, and another six hundred for getting' Bren back safe.”

---

Guided towards the door as he had been, and distracted though he may have seemed, Lhirin caught the exchange with Tedwyn, his brazenness, but knew nothing more of the man. As he ‘read’ the journal, the deigan mage heard the man’s footsteps approaching as he headed for the door, felt the faint current of air shifting as he neared. Lhirin’s right hand paused, his finger pressed lightly against a marking on the page even as his left hand shot out and caught Tedwyn’s shoulder. If the man turned to look, Lhirin intense silver eyes would be boring into his own. He might feel judged, but if he did…it was not because Lhirin had any particularly judgemental expression on his features, but rather due to his own failings–that and the sheer suddenness and intensity of his actions and gaze.

“Wait,” Lhirin said simply, his eyes boring into the man even as he invisibly cast his magical senses through Tedwyn, taking stock of the human’s soul. The man was, all told, rather normal…nothing off or particularly unique about his soul–clearly an untrained human as far as magic went, still…though Irah’s words had certainly been venomous there was something about how upset Tedwyn seemed that stood out to him. That…and the fact that no one had even bothered to ask the man if he had any useful skills. His perception delved deeper…honing in on Tedwyn until Lhirin has basically blacked out his other senses almost completely. Only Irah’s guiding hand on his physical body kept him truly grounded. He couldn’t detect Tedwyn’s affinity, but that was nothing new…it just meant that he didn’t have anything particularly unique–most likely.

Lhirin’s energy withdrew and he took a steadying breath, noticing that he was fidgeting slightly with Tedwyn’s shirt at the shoulder, rubbing the fabric between two fingers. He immediately stopped…and likely it wouldn’t have much effect on the man beyond thinking the already clearly strange deigan…was perhaps stranger than he’d thought. Not that Lhirin even considered that…or cared either way. “You answered the baronesses’ call. What skills did you bring with you?” The deigan asked, entirely out of a sense of almost dogmatic pragmatism–however…his words might be misunderstood as a chance for Tedwyn to redeem himself.

"Err..." Tedwyn mumbled, looking nervously from Lhirin to everyone else in the room, then back to Lhirin. He pointed a finger at the machete on his hip. "I can cut things?"

Lhirin’s gaze drifted down to the machete, his silver irises roving over the weapon, searching for any unique markings. Indeed, for anything significant to mark it as something other than an utterly mundane armament. It was slightly worn, looked ill cared for, but well used—though likely not as a weapon if Tedwyn’s conduct was anything to go by. Lhirin nodded slightly and his eyes darted back up to meet Tedwyn’s. He remained silent for just two moments too long, and then his hand fell away. “Mmm, nothing else of note?” he asked, but unlike someone else who might have seemed disappointed, hopeful, or derisive…Lhirin’s affect was utterly flat. Not just unreadable, but devoid of even the slightest hint of emotion, beyond perhaps the faintest flicker of curiosity.

"Uh..." Again Tedwyn's eyes shifted around the room. "I killed a snake once? I guess I can cook a little?"

“Scholarly pursuits?” Lhirin said, not even reacting to what the man had just said.

Tedwyn shrugged. "I can read and write, if that's what you mean."

Lhirin’s brows lowered faintly in an expression that was almost what someone else might consider relaxed. For Lhirin, it was about the closest he tended to get to a deadpan. Lhirin shook his head slightly, then his gaze began to drift away, his eyes slipping shut. He didn’t quite sag in disappointment, but any of that tension and intensity he’d been holding slipped away in the same breath as his gaze. “Ah. Apologies. Carry on.” He replied, sounding less and less engaged—more detached—with each word before his eyes were fully closed. His hand began to run over the journal’s page again, fingers grazing over the scratch marks with gentle, but firm pressure. A small part of his mind considered that they could use Tedwyn as bait…or a distraction. However, it seemed…ill advised and for once, Lhirin actually considered that suggesting as much would likely upset the man further. So he said nothing and ceded once more to Irah’s guidance.

Sir Yanin had wasted no time, so by the time Lady Bor spoke up, the human knight was already stood waiting by the door, looking back at the people shuffling their things around, quiver and untensioned bow slung over his shoulder and halberd in hand.
Right. Payment. They wouldn't have their regular salary for as long as they were on hiatus. Jordan didn't like asking for it, but if he didn't keep things like that mind, his mother back home would starve to death specifically in order to turn undead and come haunt him with reminders of how he abandoned his family now that his father was dead and could no longer work the fields. Credit to Sir Yanin in that he wouldn't at least let his squire himself starve, though, even if the knight's own money also ran out and he had to result shooting a deer to have something to put in the pot.
They seemed so much bolder now that people grew ever fewer.
Deo'Irah had many words for how being able to help people was a reward of its own no matter the cost. It was, in part, why he had quite stubbornly picked this path - despite his family, despite having no potential to become even half as skilled as his master (or probably Sir Freagon, from what little he had seen of him), but there was always this nagging knowledge that it was also letting someone else down. For every legendary hero, there were hundreds of people who, quite literally, died trying.
Morbidly, Lady Bor herself had pointed out that she wanted to settle it now, since there yet remained the possibility she might not make it back today.

The Viper had remained silent - none of what the baroness had said was technically a question, and any kind of administrative stuff was usually his job, anyway. Jordan had just about drawn breath to give an acknowledgement when Tedwyn (oh, right, that guy was still there) piped up.
If there ever was a more oblivious bloke walking around in Reniam ... well, just about everyone was looking as him now, some looking critical, some baffled, some outright venomous. He didn't blame the guy for having gone in hiding - it was the only reasonable course of action, the alternative of which would have been torn to shreds to no one's benefit. But the blatant lie of it as soon as a reward was mentioned... That was baffling.
And maybe it was his master's borderline paranoid caution, but a part of him also sunk. Tedwyn had heard some things that probably should have stayed between fewer people, had he not? And if he had so little integrity, then wouldn't anyone offering him any money make him spill all the beans? Not to mention that threatening him with no reward would probably work, too...
Jordan could easily guess what Sir Yanin would have said - that he had seen no evidence of it, so what exactly had he done? He looked like you as if you were being interrogated to determine if you would be sent to the gallows if you answered wrong, , but all things considered, he could be weirdly willing to let people try and explain themselves even if it felt blatantly obvious what had ensued. And then people would sputter and fail to give an adequate reply while trying to sink underground.
Deo'Irah spoke first, with much more vitriol. This time, Jordan didn't feel kind of sorry for Tedwyn.

Lady Bor's approach was slightly more diplomatic, suggesting he go and help clean up for a reward of his own. Might be a humbling experience. Or maybe not, judging how little Tedwyn seemed to have noiced of the room when he first emerged ... or maybe he couldn't ignore it anymore once he actually had to help carry off a mutilated, headless corpse.
Jordan would probably have suggested Tedwyn guard their horses, in part because it would give him something definite to do that was not trying to sneak along and alerting the bandits. Well, predominantly for that reason. The animals didn't really need guarding - Prince especially was liable to just bite a chunk out of your shoulder if you didn't belong there - but he would probably have made a decent enough human scarecrow to deter people from even trying. Scorned people were spiteful, and he both wanted him ... not in their way and also not too far, for now.
Lhirinthyl seemed to try and figure out if Tedwyn might have had any actual use after all, but ultimately seemed to decide the guy was worthless, after all.

"Right," Jordan muttered, standing as he finished gathering up his and Sir Yanin's things, "If someone needs help carrying something - up until we make the final approach, then I still have a hand free. But I am ready to go now."