Marric's hackles rise, and in spite of himself the monk feels his knuckles beginning to crack. Not only had they come to attack the town, but they had come to attack the Elf... and now this man wants to run his mouth about a mercenary outfit razing this entire town, like it's nothing.<br/><br/>"Honor among thieves, huh..." The monk smirks and squats down, putting himself eye to eye with the man. "Well, I'll tell ya somethin'... I think yer honor amounts ta a little bit less than a turd in a pig sty, an' I doubt any o' your buddies is brave enough ta risk their life ta come an' avenge ya. But even if they were, I can tell ya this... They ain't gonna be comin' after this town. I'm takin' both of my shards an' I'm headin' out. I've got more shards ta hunt, an' you can go ahead an' tell your Tattoo master that I'll get ta him when I'm good an' ready. But if so much as one o' his boys steps foot in this town..."<br/><br/>The monk grins, stands, and his body blurs as he steps forward, putting all of his weight down on the man's most vital of "organs."<br/><br/>"I'll find anyone an' everyone who ever took a coin from his hands, an' I'll break each an' every bone in that person's body. One... bone... at... a... time..." Now it's the monk's turn to give the dragon-mercenary a predatory grin, and for a moment he wishes he could draw out his female form's flames for effect. Of course, grinding the ball of his foot against the man's balls probably does a pretty good job of getting the point across on its own. "An' if YOU step foot back in this town, I'll break every bone, hang yer sorry carcass from a tree, an' wait for ya ta heal so I can break every bone again. And that's a promise that I'll spend the rest of my life keepin'. Do I make myself plenty clear?"