"sounds like you are a powerful sword, but what are you as a woman", he asks. She could insult his blade. It served him well and she couldn't change that. Though the idea of bedding soemthing he used to draw blood was somewhat new to him. Yeah there were some men he knew who managed to rape werewolf slaves. "Or being, basically, I don't know what you're capable of."<br/><br/>He walked around the table to pick up her box. He examined it as she dressed. "You were put in this for a reason. I think it's best you don't keep secrets from me. You may be quite all powerful, but I would hope I don't look like the young farmer's son waiting for his first adventure", he told her moving to see if her sheathe was about. "you are a powerful weapon, you have secrets, which means you have an agenda. There is plenty of crazy stuff going on in this city, hell this world. I've made my living keeping out of it. You look like you might just drag me into it."<br/><br/>He saunters toward his table as he sees the dress of the woman he left tied to the table adorning her shapely form.<br/><br/>"I look at you and see an explosive bit of magic. that makes things complicated. Sure you've got a nice body, but what's to keep you from doing something else. I don't like secrets that aren't mine. What is it then, do you eat souls, steal youth, what? Every power and trick has a cost", he grills her a bit. The hexblade lived but getting information and things that others desired. Right now he wanted to make sure this sword wasn't the trouble he felt it was.