"Supper would be nice just about now Tarvin, thank you," Thraim said as he lighted his chertwood cigar with a piece of tinder from the common room's fire.

Thraim took a few puffs to get the cherry just right, and then addresses the group, "well, I think that we should take this opportunity of a quiet supper to introduce ourselves and let each other know his or her specialties."

Thraim stepped onto the fireplace stones to stand a little taller and look at everyone's face.

"I'll start.  My name is Thraim Glorerg.  I am a skilled scout, soldier, trapsmith, and locksmith.  My sword," Thraim says as he grips the pommel of the longsword on his hip, "and my crossbow will serve us well."

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Thraim," Slinger spoke and offered his hand.
He looked around the room at those gathered and continued, "I am known as Slinger.  As you can see by my frail frame, I offer little in the way of muscle for this trek, however, I am practiced in the magical arts and believe that my contributions will be well received."

Kagan-Zur, nods to Tavin's suggestion of supper and takes his usual corner seat with his back to the wall.

Heathcliffe rubs his hands together and makes a mischievous grin at the moment of supper and walks back to the tavern to partake in the eating.

Thraim shook Slinger's hand firmly, but not enough to hurt the half-elf.  

"I have no doubt that your contribution will be appreciated.  I've had my bacon saved on more than one occasion by a practitioner of the arcane arts," Thraim said in a friendly tone, "I glad to make your acquaintance as well."

Thraim watched the half-orc and halfling take more interest in eating dinner rather than discussing how the group would operate, and made a mental note of it.

"Unless anyone has an objection, then I'll carry the third set of papers from the Duke," Thraim said to the group.

The thought of dinner made Semina's mouth salivate like no other.  She was so wrapped up in the days events, she barely ate breakfast.  Her constant training is always making her hungry even though her order has strict rules on food proportions.  "Dinner sounds great Tarvin, will there be any meat tonight?" she asks.   If there is, she will take more then her fill this time in preparation of the journey.   This is one of her many behaviors the Order of Iskgard were always willing to overlook.

Semina now looks towards Thraim and the rest of the group.  "My name is Semina, and I am but a simple monk of the Order of Iskgard" she says.  "I am here to offer my fighting skills, amongst other things, and hope you find me worthy of your company."

Thraim turns towards Semina and says, "a pleasure to meet you as well, Mistress Semina.  I sincerely hope that you find my company worthy as well."

"Naren. I cast arcane spells, focusing on tactics. Although not trained in them, I have a knack for nasty tricks." He pauses. "I prefer to use things other than spells to accomplish a task. Spells are limited in number. Flaming oil and caltrops are cheap."

Sander regarded the group, then spoke.
"Sander Lightwalker. I am an experienced cleric, as some of you may already know. Fear not though," he brushed his cloak aside to reveal plate armor and a mace hanging at his side, "I can take care of myself."

Well, it seems to be a well-rounded group thus far.  I certainly like the way Naren thinks, and it sounds like he's seen some action.  Good, I don't like working with greenhorn wizards, Thraim thought to himself as he puffed on his cigar.  

"You're right about oil and caltrops.  I use a few nasty tricks myself, and as I said I work with traps as well.  I'm pleased to meet you," Thraim says to Naren.

Turning to Sander, Thraim nods in acknowledgment of his gesture and says, "and you well Sander.  It's good to know that we have an experienced priest and healer with us."

Squinting her eyes, and giving a devilish disapproving grin, Semina reacts to Thraim and Naren "I hope your nasty little tricks come in handy when we are in real need of them, otherwise I think it best to behave as the Duke of Cynosure has requested" she smiles.  

Still waiting for dinner, and others to join in the conversation, Semina asks "Have all of you acquired steeds?" pausing "If not I noticed some horses for sell near the stables."

"I'm quite sure the Duke of Cynosure doesn't care how we might happen to kill monsters invading his lands." Naren says dryly.

Thraim chuckles at Semina's remark and says to her, "oh, don't worry about that.  Yes, I have a riding horse and pack horse in the stables."

Looking in Naren's direction once again, Semina remembers quite clearly why things turned sour between them.  "You're right Naren, I am sure the Duke doesn't care what monsters we obliterate. Except, I was under the impression we weren't a strike force."  she said coldly.

Now turning from away from Naren, so her face didn't give way to the hurt she felt, Semina decided to look for Tavin, and get dinner over with.  There will be plenty of time to get acquainted with the others during their journey.

Naren was once again left with the feeling of not quite connecting with another's viewpoint...Or, more specifically, one other person's viewpoint.

It was...Quite uncomfortable.

Why would someone care if monsters died?

(OOC: Borderline sociopathy alert, or typical adventurer?)