<strong>Name:</strong>Sylvester Eckhart<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Thirsty Turtle<br/><br/>At the time the aged warrior took Sylvester's forearm in his fierce grip, as Sylvester took his, it seemed that only the archer and two others remained. The others had either been turned away or had decided otherwise, but he wasn't surprised - he knew a few of the faces and wouldn't have picked them to watch his back out in the wilds. One remained hidden beneath her hood, but the other was suspicious for other reasons. The gauntlet with it's severe looking claws and the smear of red over her nose was a sign that she belonged to one of the barbarian tribes, dangerous people - usually to be avoided - who didn't often mingle openly with the common people. But Sylvester guessed that even barbarians would need gold sometimes...<br/><br/>When Master Riddick spoke, it was with a gruff, blunt manner. The archer appreciated the honest warning, but was prepared to for the risks. He knew he might never come back, or that if he did, he might not be whole again. Sylvester noted that Riddick looked at him when the words 'rules' were said. Perhaps it had been something about the way he'd presented himself, but there was time to change that impression later, so the archer just nodded his head slowly.<br/><br/>He nodded again when Master Riddick told them to consider him a Captain. Sylvester had spent many years in the army, and knew exactly how Riddick wanted him to behave. But it had been a long time since he'd had a Captain, or had to obey anyone really. As a mercenary he worked for people, but there was a difference between being employed and following orders the way they had to in the army. Still, he nodded again. For the money he was being paid, he would do as the warrior said, and would have done it walking on his hands.<br/><br/>When told that the mysterious stranger would be Second in Command, he finally tried to take a better look at him. His face was masked by the shadow cast by the cloak wrapped about him, but despite the dark of the tavern he noted the glint of mail near his throat, and the heavy boots of a soldier or warrior under the table. But other than his name, Connor was still a mystery. Sylvester would prefer having a decent look at him, to judge the man for himself, and agreeing to follow Connor's command without so much as a word from the man himself seemed like a bad idea but for now he found himself nodding again, trusting that the man was capable of leading.<br/><br/>When Master Riddick finished speaking, the first woman lowered her hood and introduced herself as Nariel. The pointed ears beneath the dark hair revealed that she was an elf, but it was the eyes that caught his attention. Each was a different colour, a feature that was usually met with suspicion - it was a witch's sign. Sylvester wasn't typically superstitious, but he couldn't stop himself lean away from her ever so slightly. Her question was the obvious one, but also the most important.<br/><br/>"No questions of my own, but it would be good to know what exactly we're risking life and limb for..." He said softly, crossing his arms over his chest.