"Tsk." Marcellus knew he'd messed up. The warrior... Lewin, was a lot smarter, and more cautious, than Fossil or he had calculated. The best course of action would probably be to tell the truth; hardly something he was fond of or experienced with. Releasing his power, he reached up and put down the hood of his cloak, revealing his shock of white hair. He stared at Lewin, with no trace of the previous facade; his face hard, his voice cold, Marcellus spoke. "The name's Crow. I'm an information dealer who specializes in espionage and..." He paused. "...skills of a more arcane nature. I just incapacitated a high ranking member of an organization heavily involved in the slave trade in this city, and therefore with moderate influence and no qualms with violence, so I'd appreciate it very much if you'd grant me a place in your escape plane, sir." The word sir dripped with sarcasm. Annoyance was about the only emotion Marcellus had trouble supressing.