Glancing up, the rogue gave the briefest of nods, once to each woman. Then just as readily, resumed reading... Though, as the priestess moved off for training, he spoke up to the Knight, "She must want, to take you for a trip..." his voice was rough, husky and haggard... As if fighting for each breath of air. "The formal Smithy, is found within, the War Quarters... Where priests, and soldiers train..." Peering at the twice dead trooper from over the brim of the book. There was something inherintly, threatening, about the man...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>