<div class="floatright">(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o-RiIKBFMYo/Th3vXgA36KI/AAAAAAAAAL0/FTrA_NQbl4A/s1600/Fantasy-Tavern-low900.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Logan Riddick<br/><strong>Location:</strong>A Dark Corner in the Thirsty Turtle<br/><br/>Logan kept his demeanor relaxed as groups of people approached the table to offer their services. Not that there were many, but most were sent on their way after a few quick questions. The last three to approach the table, however, seemed to hold a little more promise. The first did set Logan slightly on edge. Her approach was quiet and she moved with a silent grace, her face shrouded by her hood. He was immediately skeptical of her - approaching with a hood drawn suggested you had something to hide and when offering your services to some one, unless it was for far more nefarious purposes where secrecy was paramount, was always something that made Logan wary. It was only once she spoke, tilting her head upwards, did Logan get to view her facial features. The first thing he noticed, of course, were her mismatched eyes. That alone would set many people on edge or accuse her of witchcraft of some sort, and explained her choice of hood. He inclined his head slightly towards her in acknowledgement.<br/><br/>The next to arrive almost made Logan chuckle. The man was clearly a mercenary - or had been recently. He was also full of hubris which could get a man killed rather quickly on the battlefield. But he did look like he could hold his own and more blades were always good to have on your side. Logan did not rise, however, and extended his own hand, grabbing Sylvesters just short of the elbow as was custom. Sylvester would quickly feel the toughness of his arm, the strength of his grip, and would know that Logan was not a man to be taken lightly despite his age.<br/><br/>"I am Master Riddick." He responds, casting his voice so that it was clearly he addressed all those assembled before them. One by one, his eyes met theirs.<br/><br/>His attention turned briefly to Elandra as she presented herself and he nodded in quick assessment. Many who bore the mark of their Tribe were honorable and good to their words and possessed skills your typical 'civilized' citizens did not. She would be a welcome addition to the party. What those others skills consisted of probably involved living off the land. He wondered where her Tribe heralded from but that was a question that could be answered later.<br/><br/>"And I am going to be frank. I do not like silvecoating words and making things seems as they are not. If you agree to come along on this expedition," A brief pause, glancing sideways to his shrouded companion. "You can expect to be away from home for a long time. There is a good chance you will die or become grievously wounded and there is also a good chance you won't ever come home - dead or alive. I expect everyone to have the same level of commitment in this expedition - all personal agendas and grievances end right here, right now. I need your full focus on the tasks that lay ahead. And there are some rules, oh yes, rules." Logan looked directly at Sylvester as he said this before shifting his eyes again.<br/><br/>"First, I am the leader of this expedition. For those with prior service, consider me your Captain. All of MY orders are final, no questions ask. If you do not do as I say, you will be cut from this expedition, even if that means stranding you in the middle-of-nowhere. Once you break your contract with me, I no longer give a shit about you. Secondly, my Companion here - Connor - is second in command, should anything happen to me. You should also regard his word as words coming from me. Thirdly, everyone takes a watch at night. Fourthly, we only bring what you can carry. Where we are going is mostly going to be done on foot. And finally, we leave first thing in the morning. If you are not at the Ferry by sunup, then you will be left behind. Any question?"<br/><br/>