Jonnovan
The girl was friendly enough, if a bit dim, Jonnovan thought, but the spindly fellow in the robes was off. Jonnovan was under the impression that the mage did not like him. With a smirk and a wave, he dismissed the thought. That man had no reason to dislike Jo! Stiffly, Jonnovan returned the little cleric's bow and nodded in ascent. Apples were quite distracting. Especially the good ones.
When the mage stated that they had company, Jo turned to see a new couple enter the scene. An odd couple at that. The first, he recognized as a follower of some sort of monastic tradition. Those folks were the only ones odd enough to cut off each and every hair they could find, and they always had this still air about them. Looking over the second, Jo was not sure what to make of her. A tracker? A woodsman maybe? She had a bow, but exuded something that screamed mother earth. Whereas Jonnovan was all leather, steel and buckles, Freah was green, aloof and woodsy. Two sides of the same coin, he mused.
Outside of the room a commotion could be heard. Deep voices, loud grunts and the scuff of boots on wood. Jonnovan's hand hovered over his kukri and stayed there for a long while until the next comer entered. This one was...pleasant. By that, Jonnovan was smitten. Leather, steel and buckles. Jo had always had a thing for women that could hold their own in a fight, and liked it even more when they had proof. Judging by her scars and the hand and a half sword she wore, there was no doubt this one was a warrior. "Uh..." Jonnovan struggled to find his words, swallowing the now tasteless bite of apple as he stared into Terrah's striking crystal eyes. Now that was beautiful. Finally regaining his proverbial footing, Jo smiled and was about to greet the newest arrivals when the cleric--Everen, he remembered, spoke again.
She and Valence were having a bit of very brief interlude. Three to five words per answer. Apparently the mission was not as simple as he had initially assumed. Jonnovan furrowed his brow in consternation, wondering why on earth anyone would want to spare a killer. Then the reward...silver? For a murderer? Even if it amounted to a couple gold, it was still unheard of to have a serial killer's bounty amount to...well, not much. At least twenty gold was the accepted minimum for a bounty-worthy murderer. Given this was the Shining City, the situation seemed increasingly suspicious. Shaking away his doubts, Jo indicated the other three with a wave of his hand and a cordial smile.
"Hey there. Jonnovan Cerali, ranger and soldier of fortune." he clasped Cazik's hand without preamble, nodding in respect. He had no doubt that the monk could leave at least two of those present in crumpled heaps on the ground before the others knew that they were in danger, without even drawing his weapons. Pugilists were wily like that. Turning to Freah, Jo inclined his head slightly. "Always nice to meet someone who knows how to use a bow. At least, I hope you do...where did you learn archery? I studied a broad...or two."
Flashing a wolf-fanged grin, Jo allowed the lewd jest to set in for a second as he turned to face the last to arrive. "Lady Terrah," he bowed deeply. In his years as a sword for hire, too many times Jo had been addressed as Lord or Sir Cerali for no other reason that grating, archaic mannerisms. As a fellow sellsword, he hoped that Terrah would appreciate the irony. Rising from his bow, Jo struck an akimbo and smirked. "You strike me as a troublemaker...strange, for someone that doesn't look all that big and scary."
Upon hearing the bit about encountering magi, Jo turned on his heel and fixed the darkly-cast wizard with an appraising gaze. "I've met a mage. I've killed three. They're mortal, as far as I can tell."
There was no malice or threat in his voice, simply fact. Not wanting to diminish his personal feats, Jonnovan purposefully neglected to mention that two of them had died with an arrow or knife planted in their back. The third was a different matter entirely. Facing a mage in a fair fight was easily one of the hardest moments of his life, one that he barely managed to struggle through. He rather liked the dour mage, and did not want him thinking less of Jo. After a second or two Jo resumed his cheery air and nodded to Ereven.
"So, little cleric. Where to first? While I'd rather not accept a job that requires the watchful eye of the god-touched, I'm strapped for cash. Let's get going, yeah?"