The four unnamed thugs were rough and scruffy; they'd clearly lived tough lives on the street, with colorful scars and hair that looks like they cut it themselves with a dagger. Jakros, on the other hand, looks a step above them; tall, skinny, with a pinched face, sharp nose, and keen eyes, he looks like he hasn't lived as rough of a life as they have.<br/><br/>The room she's escorted into appears to be a large, underground warehouse. Stacks of crates create a maze of corridors, and it would be very easy to get lost... or to set up an ambush in here.<br/><br/>She'd notice the men staring at her, as she moved; while they kept weapons trained on her, they were also watching with undisguised lust.<br/><br/>"And you thought the best way to approach that was to kill my men?" he asked. "Besides, you must realize, by now, that this is a rather exclusive organization; women do not join us..."<br/><br/>He reached out, and grabbed a fistful of her hair, and grinned. "They serve us."