Brynhilde felt her heart start to sink, most of the men that frequented this watering-hole seemed to be men who would break bones for a few coppers and put a body into the sewer for a gold crown. She shook her head slightly then noticed a pair of men walking towards her, there was a definite kinship in them, a similar nose, but they seemed from completely different worlds. One was clearly the son of an elf and a human, the hints at the inhuman within it's skin. There was a wicked scar across his face that had clearly taken his eye, that he was still alive in their 'profession' was skill, luck or deceit. The half-orc on the other hand seemed to show the strengths that most of their kin did, strong, broad of chest and scarred from a life spent in combat. They wore patch-worked armor, studded here and there. As they sat down at her table Brynhilde removed her feet from the chair Bailen went to sit in and pushed it back, "Men who aren't willing to do anything for a crown", she said to Slad, the young woman wrapping her fingers together, "The job is quite simple", she stared at them both for a moment, before locking eyes with Bailen. "I aim to take out a band of slavers operating here in Baldur's Gate, so I need some muscle", she turned towards Slad, "And wit", she leaned back. "Now that you've heard it, what do you say".