There is a snort from the human.  "An orc."  He mutters to himself, then, louder: "The strongest hand should lead us."  He speaks without emotion, quoting the antiquated law by rote.<br/><em>Until someone stronger kills him</em>, he thinks to himself.  So diverse is the crew that it would be difficult to prove.  All had skills the other did not. None seemed the wise sage, at least to him. Not a female, that is certain.  Perhaps...his eyes fall on Adam.  What his nature was evades him...but he is certainly worth another glance.  Little it matters to a man such as he.  A few drinks in him, and it mattered even less.  The stabbing pain resulting from his hard thoughts stops his letcherous reveree.