Jahan was less than amicable, to say the least. Windel had suspected that a rowdy-looking peasant like him would be hostile towards the wealthier, especially when 6 platinum was on the line.<br/><br/>"Miles?" Windel leaned onto the counter with a devilish grin towards Miles. His mind tried to ignore<br/><br/>Miles glanced towards the young man from the corner of his eyes, unamused. "You're not bribing me, are you?" he spoke in hushed tones.<br/><br/>Windel grabbed a piece of paper from within his pockets alongside a quill pen. "Ink," he said, tugging the inkpot with his right pinkie towards his quill. Pulling both paper and pen towards himself on the counter, his hand swiftly scribbled a few words onto the sheet of paper and stuffed it into an envelope he produced from his other hand.<br/><br/>"Do what's inside the letter if any of us don't make it. The right thing is going to be very obvious to you, Mr. Sharpe. More right than the fool." Miles grabbed the envelope and looked towards it with a touch of incredulity.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Which orphanage is that money going to, Windel?"</span><br/><br/>None of them were likely to spend that much money on anything to help others anyway, he thought. 'Stench' the short trampe looked like a peasant whose main priorities were bar fights, paying tabs every time he lost a fight, and hard booze. Arathorne spoke well, but perhaps his duty was towards 'The Lady' rather than anything else. And Kora... probably would just use it to survive for the next 10 or so years.<br/><br/>Then another thought barged into his head. Who was to take leadership of this strange band of adventurers?<br/><br/>"Listen, all of you. I know how to get to Vine. I've donated to the mayor's retirement fund. And I've got a nice stash of magical items which can make an impromptu distraction through explosions." Windel's eyes narrowed as he glanced across all of them. "Cutting through angry villagers with torches and pitchforks isn't the best way to go about this."