Wearing what one might expect of a medieval noble, Larsen strode into the room, a look of false confidence and thin-lipped smile upon his face.  The only exception to his wardrobe is a small pack slung over his shoulder, which seemed to be packed full.  He set the bag down roughly on the table with a thud, nodding to everyone present (except the seaman), and sat down.  "The Upper Conference Room?" he asked to no one in particular.