Ceoluulf had settled for granting his companions a deadpan stare, as if some part of him was still desperately hoping they had all had enough sense to leave him in the night and that this was simply some product of a waking dream.  Or perhaps he simply thought ignoring them might bring about the same end.  The meanings behind a stranger's expression were often manifold, and this man was clearly no different.<br/><br/>He took the shot from Darius--barely more than a thimble in his grip--and downed it with one swift movement.  He looked intensely at the bar keep for a moment as the man gave him directions, doing an admirable job at holding back a cough itching its way up his burning throat.  If he was irritated by the other man's attitude when he described it, only the slightest twitch of his brow gave it away.<br/><br/>"Thanks.  Some water," he added, almost as an afterthought.  If the potency of the ichor was any indication, the titular Goblin of the establishment wasn't just frisky, he was downright malicious.<br/><br/>Only then did he actually bother to look at the rest of the group, disappointed to find them exactly where he'd left them.<br/><br/><em>"How about you, Ceol? Already planning on slipping away for a brief respite?"</em><br/><br/>"I'll have my respite as soon as we pass through the Southern Gates and leave this town behind us," he said, the barest bite of annoyance creeping into his voice.  It seemed less directed at the rogue and more at the building and the city that housed it.<br/><br/>The younger girl,<strong>Sanora</strong>, he gave a sidelong glance.  Perhaps a silver-tongued man like Renolf might describe it as 'drinking her in', but to any other it looked like that sort of scrutiny a watch-maker might give a defective clock.<br/><br/>"You've left yourself open on all sides," Ceoluulf said bluntly.  "Unless you plan to 'adventure' your way into a brothel, it won't stand the test of time either."  Another pause.  "Marching order.  You'll be in the middle.  You as well," he said, looking pointedly at<strong>Aylin</strong>and her skirts.<br/><br/>Finally, as if tired of every last one of them, he turned to<strong>Seka</strong>.  His eyes seemed just the slightest bit softer whenever they strayed towards her, but that was all.  Looking at them it was clear that both prized practicality and preparation.  While she encased herself in armor despite sitting in the middle of a tavern with little risk of combat, he was lugging enough supplies to make up for any deficiencies the others might have.  It had soon become apparent that they were the<em>brawn</em>of the makeshift group, and considering the frailties of the other women it seemed they had been lucky to come upon one another.