Isaiah focused, trying desperately to tune out all the unpleasant sights, sounds, and smells of the brothel. He focused mostly on the words of the Templar girl, though he ignored most of them... except for the last one that is.<br/><br/>It was a good question. Why<span style="font-style: italic">would</span>he want to get mixed up in all of that? Isaiah sighed, "As far as I see it," he said, "there are three reasons for joining either side: the want for some form of power, agreeing with their ideals, and revenge. When it comes down to revenge..." he continued, "well, let's say a person's family were killed. If they were going to join a side, they would join the enemy of whoever hurt them." He lowered his head and smirked, "Though for me, there is another... less common reason for staying." He looked back up at the Templar girl with his eyes slightly narrowed and a dangerous smile on his face. "It's the reason my own best friend calls me a demon. I'm different," he said, smirking, "I<span style="font-style: italic">like</span>killing."<br/><br/>"Perhaps you were right," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I<span style="font-style: italic">am</span>quite a talkative person. But how about we move on a bit? For instance, I don't know<span style="font-style: italic">your</span>name."<br/><br/>This was beginning to drag out. On the other hand, the girl was, slowly, drinking her wine... maybe she would get drunk. That would make things easier for him. And if hers were throwing knives... well, drunkenness and projectile weapons don't mix very well. He didn't think there was much chance of him seducing her, but there are other ways to get things done, ways he was more comfortable with.