Salazaar stayed as nondescript as he could, which, given his skills, was as good as being invisible.  He entered the inn's common room like a gentle breeze; nobody looked up or even noticed he was there.  He stood by the fire, apparently warming himself, but cast evaluative glances at the beautiful woman, this Lucretia Airas Faeyt.  He was still amazed at the sharpness of his new senses, but the sensation of wonderment was kept percolating in the back of his brain, while his attention was on the clues and cues.<br/><br/>Hearty appetite, from how she looked at the food as it was delivered, possibly indicative of being out on the road recently.  Indeed, traces of road dust and forest leaves, still clinging to the clothes.  Also several signs of blood, not yet flaked off or dried entirely to brown.  He saw her sword, and detected other weaponry concealed about her person.  The Warrior of the group, or one of them; it never hurts to have several who can carry the battle.  As she had apparently done, recently, it seemed, and from the un-patched rips in some of her clothing.  The blood spoke of an injury, and the location of the small stains suggested it was hers, but there was no impaired movement.  Her Gift had come recently, he knew that, so the recent healing was potentially part of it.  Based on the somewhat haunted look about her that he could glimpse under the tiredness, it was likely she was wondering about that too.  Sal drew his conclusions as to who must have Called Faeyt, and felt pretty certain about her role in the coming difficulties.<br/><br/>He had decided to wander over to greet her when someone else entered the inn.  Unlike Sal, he made an appearance, with his all-enveloping black cloak, his ebony staff with the gemstone header, and the raven perched on his shoulder.  His hair draped across his face in that careless-yet-artful way that you had to either be blessed or purchase appropriate spells to accomplish.  Sal could sense this was another Chosen before he even saw the face, and glimpsed the hint of red in the eye.  His Gift informed him this was Vincent Valtiere, and he didn't need any divinely bestowed knowledge to know the man's reputation as a warlock and the only reliable guide into the Ghostwood.  It had been many years since Sal had been anywhere near the Ghostwood, well before Valtiere began operating, but he still remembered the place... and not happily.<br/><br/>Whatever he thought about the man's subtlety (and indeed, the Black Mage couldn't have been less subtle if he'd ensorcelled glowing letters to float above his head reading "I am a wizard of skill - do not fuck with me"), Valtiere at least could back up the image he was projecting.  Sal noted the hidden length of the special sword - and wondered, not for the first time, how one could possibly look at a weapon with a name like "souldrinker" or "lifestealer" or the like and not immediately think "evil evil evil", but he acknowledged the true evil was in the use, not in the name - and also detected the hang of various gear and bits of armor.  He was dressed for journey, and for action.  Good; from what Sal was aware of, there was never going to be enough time for comfort.<br/><br/>He knew Valtiere had also recently received the Gift, or at least the Call, and briefly wondered who had given it.  Did the shadowwalker even know?  Sal was under the impression that he was the only one as yet who had been given knowledge and direction, but it was entirely possible Valtiere's mystical senses were leading him where divine Gift was not.  There was more than one path to the same destination, after all.  He watched the black-robed mage sit down at a small table nearby and just look directly at Faeyt.  Sal sighed.  Amateur tactics for observation, but it's not like the kid was trying to be sneaky, anyway.<br/><br/>He then considered joining them, making the kernel of the eventual group for the first time, but paused.  He glanced suspiciously at the door.  Was someone else going to walk right in?  He'd expected to have to do some more detective work; he was uniquely well-equipped for it, now.  But if they were all just going to walk into this inn at the same time, it would save him lots of effort...