The new group seemed to be settling in nicely. If by settling in you meant gathering in a protective huddle at the main table, avoiding conversation with the drunkards and only politely answering the less so. If she hadn't been so apathetic about life in general, Ysira might have found this cute or even endearing. As it was, she could barely muster the will to care about their existence.<br/><br/>Her musings were cut short by Stan leaning over her with his hand outstretched, waiting for the money he was owe for finding these new meat-bags to fill out the ranks. With a sigh, she handed over the ten silver pieces he wanted, likely significantly more than he deserved.<br/><br/>The 'Red Scorpion' and her merry little band looked like a bunch of ex-slaves, something she could empathise with, not that she cared to. The signs were there. Thin frames, hollow faces, the barest glimpse of chafing around their wrists and a very obvious pack mentality. Safety in numbers and all that. All things she knew from so many years of not owning her own life, a crushing experience if she was honest with herself. It was hardly surprising they were sticking together.<br/><br/>Right at that moment she was studying one of the Khoszul men in his well fitting armour, likely newly bought or stolen. The former was just as likely as the latter, in her opinion. He had paled noticeably when Livinko had mentioned Sachkov's name, something that had caught her interest. It was no secret that Sachkov had recently campaigned against the Khoszul, it was most of the reason he was hiring mercenaries after all. She suspected that at the very least he had fought and been captured, if not both of the pair.<br/><br/>Her train of thought was interrupted by a boot finding it's way on top of one of the other merc's hand. Her eyes flicked up to the face of the owner, a Miao woman of not unpleasant appearance, glaring at the hand's owner. When she ground her heel further into his vulnerable flesh, she couldn't help but release a dark chuckle, watching the bloody idiot get exactly what he deserved for his stupidity. And then the damned woman had to go and order some Grass Wine, a bitter drink that she could hardly stomach. She watched intently as the foul liquid passed the lips of the small company, hoping that at least one of them would spit. But none of them did.<br/><br/>Ysira shook her head, clearing the thoughts of competition from her mind. She need not compete with these pathetic excuses for soldiers. Inclining her head to the Miao woman she spoke quietly.<br/><br/>"I see we have another drinker here. That's something I can respect." She stood slowly, working out the kinks from her long session of sitting down.<br/><br/>"However, until you can prove yourself in combat, stallion-fucker, I have nothing to say other than try not to get killed." Her eyes settled on the rest of them.<br/><br/>"That goes for all of you. Even you, 'Red Scorpion'." That last was spoken with a mocking tone, deliberately aimed to test their tempers. One needed to know who they fought with after all.<br/><br/>"Shall I call the Company to order, Captain? Or do we wait for tomorrow?"