Koralheim regarded the approaching human with well concealed but mild disdain; human travelers were often troublesome simply by virtue of often being pilgrims or in some regard religious. Even if he was willing to cooperate with the Father Regent for the greater good, he certainly didnâ€™t expect the offhand acolyte he might encounter to be particularly forgiving of his craft.<br/><br/>Still, it would be impolite to jump to any conclusion. If he was problematic he could very quickly be left behind. Running away was something of a specialty of his.<br/><br/>Koralheim allowed his eyes to drift skyward as the other two kept up their conversation; this human wasâ€¦ pushy. Not a bizarre human trait. Koralheim signed a quick and polite excuse to be able to stand, checking the firmness of his bandage as he moved over to the downed wurm. The metal monstrosities had always been a particularly looming horror left from the war in his mind; built to undermine city walls, or more famously to drain an entire merfolk lagoon into an underground catacomb.  Beautiful horrors like this had become something of his obsession.<br/><br/>The tattoo on his back burned lightly, just south of the small wound heâ€™d received. His wife had always teased him on how fragile he could be; he did, honestly, make a pretty poor guardsman. Perhaps if heâ€™d been better his wife would still be alive. Koralheim leaned peeled away a panel of the wurm and leaned into the machine, wincing slightly at the wound, but more fiercely at the tattoo which had begun to burn with an increasing, throbbing heat. It had been a while since that had happened and, as such, he made quite a mess of the machineâ€™s innards to retrieve the stone, taking the glowing thing out as quickly as he could before returning to the fireside. He kept casting his eyes skyward at some encroaching, fluffy clouds.<br/><br/>After slipping the stone into his satchel and reluctantly taking his eyes off the sky, he returned his attention to Kala and the newcomer. His hands moved quickly, and possessed slightly less of the refined precision heâ€™d had when heâ€™d first started speaking to Kala; there was a nervous shake to his movements. â€œVery well, the machine will lie dormant until it properly rusts away without magical intervention.â€ he explained. â€œIt is good to see you well, traveler. Pete, then? A respectable human name. You might call me Koralheim then, Pete.â€ he signed at the human, not terribly sure or honestly concerned with the humanâ€™s potential understanding of his signing.<br/><br/>He paused for a minute to rub over the tattoo on his back, feeling it hot to the touch; he really ought not to stay here if it could be helped. He turned to Kala to continue â€œWe have a contract of sorts, then. Would you object to me speaking into your mind? It is a matter of convenience, though I would surely instruct you in proper signing as part of our deal.â€<br/><br/>Koralheimâ€™s bronze eyes looked over the human for a moment before his hands went back to work. â€œI must admit that I am dangerous company to keep, traveler. Are you sure that suits you?â€