Still with a faint smile on his face from thinking of the possible diversions the night would bring, he takes in the mercenaries with one glance; nobody was visibly causing trouble in their absence, and so a glance is all they got immediately. Alura was keeping the most dangerous of them distracted, which, whether it was intention or not was a good job; with felines, you usually had to keep them interested in something, or they'd go find something else to be interested in that you might not like. In this case, keeping kitty interested in fairy was probably going to help keep kitty uninterested in what, say, a drow would feel like in her belly, and so Johan emphatically approved. When he sees Naji, he gives the drow a tentative smile, figuring on what was coming. Sure enough, the slap hit him in the jaw, and he winced as he rubbed the red mark on his face. Letting Naji rant at him for a while, he gives the quartermaster a tight hug when the anger turns into something more pleasant- at least he'd have options. He takes the letter, and before reading it, finally adds:<br/><br/>"Nice to see you too. We just found out what happens when a magical well blows up in your face- something was strange, really strange with this one, and the mage who was opening it couldn't keep it stable. Something about the explosion threw us into, I think, another plane for a few hours-" seeing Naji's face, he throws up his hands. "Honest! Ask Cyria if you don't believe me! She'd understand more of the theoreticals of what was going on than I would, anyway! ...we didn't lose anyone over there, but we almost did, and Sasara's a bit, um, digested. She was getting a little delirious-" he lowers his voice and adds, "You know some people get like that when they feel even weak acids on their skin, yeah?" Before clearing his throat, he holds up the guilty hand. "I snapped her out of it the only way I could. I had my other hand on her tongue, but she was too far gone to care as much about that. Cyria and I snapped her out of it, and she healed herself enough to be mobile, but she should probably take a bit to heal herself more and the rest of us too. "<br/><br/>With that, he reads the message, and his lips thin. "Alright. Tell the others that we- as in all of the boars, not just us- have a new job. We need to head back to Port Tyval and, happily enough, one of the company'll be there in the tavern to tell us more. Still, we've got time, so we can wait and heal everyone for another, oh, ten minutes before setting out. Which just leaves-"<br/><br/>He strides over to the group of defeated mercenaries, business having again chased pleasure from his mind with the startling speed Johan often changes personas. "Alright! Listen up, all of you. We're heading out soon. Figure we both failed our mission, kind of, but you all failed it a little harder than we did given that you lost the fight. It happens." He shrugs a little, as if to say being at another mercenary group's mercy wasn't much of something to get exercised about. "Anyway, given that I don't really want to haul prisoners around, I'm inclined to ransom you off and let you go home. Given that I doubt you've all got the gold to pay your way out, we'll take gear of a reasonable amount until you can scrape up the gold back where you're from. If anyone wants to join us, you're welcome to hop inside one of our people-" he grins. "But seriously, if you're interested in joining, I can probably use you as a fighter instead of as extra calories for a fighter. Not that I'll say no if anyone's feeling suicidally tasty. Take a few minutes to talk it over while the rest of us get ready," he urges.