With a nod of his head, Valerius took the center seat with a word of thanks to the Madame, sitting so he could face her properly. "Madam, we trust that, being in the business you are in, you can keep a secret. Please understand if we wish to keep some anonymity, but to make a long tale short, we require... assistance. I understand your establishment is reputable for it's wares AND as a gathering place for..." he said, grimacing. "Sellswords." he spat the word as if it were made of molded cheese. "We are in need of loyal men. We need mercenaries that are faithful to more than just whoever pays the most. I know it's a long stretch, madame, and we are grateful for any assistance you may provide, but we are in an admittedly dire situation." said the old warrior, casting his eyes down.<br/><br/>The comely woman looked a slight perturbed, cradling her head in her hand. Slowly, the older woman looked up and right into the old warrior's eyes. "I cannot help you, brave knight. I can offer you secrecy and asylum for a time. One does not live in Denerim without memorizing the face of the future ruler of Highever." she said, turning with a knowing smile to Aimil.<br/><br/>"But I am afraid that what you seek is beyond my means, sir knight." she said with a solemn note in her voice.