The man interlocked his fingers to support a contemplative stare after sampling the food and hearing Viloet's response. "If it so pleases you, I've recently obtained the approvals necessary for a formal adventurer's guild for Malchandeux. I find myself in need of someone with... a magnetic personality, such as yours, to attract the interest of other potential members." Naturally he was lying through his teeth. McGreggor wanted a mascot, a pretty face, someone to bring in the dullards that MIGHT actually have a chance at surviving the trials of the world. Though, it was a rather convincing delivery. (Sense Motive: DC 18)