Stepping a bit closer, Tasaril realizes that the two thugs are members of the "Last Laugh", the largest thieves guild in Cauldron. Not an organization any sane man would want to make an enemy of if he planned to spend a lot of time in the seedier - more lively - taverns. And there's a third person behind them, probably back up. The young bard notices O'walu, a local guide and hunter he knew, walking up to to the two thugs from the other side, and looking quite mad. Tasaril is still debating whether or not to step up himself - O'walu should be able to handle two thugs, wait, there were three... - when he notices a young, pretty woman behind O'walu.<br/><br/>Whistling and putting up his best roguish smile he takes a step forward, then falters slightly when he feels the rain on his cloak upon leaving the cover from the overhanging roof - he forgot about that. For a moment he wishes he had cast some spell to protect himself from rain beforehand, then he realizes that he may very well need all of his meager magic if this scene turns violent. Steading himself, the bard walks on, one hand on the hilt of his rapier and the other keeping his cloak closed.<br/><br/>It is hard to cut a dashing impression if you can't get wet, but he tries anyway. "Greetings, my fellows. What, pray, is the meaning of this? Did the good cleric fall down and you're helping him up? How commendable!" Tasaril moves a bit to the side so he can keep an eye on the two men and on the third man in the alley at the same time.<br/><br/>