Thar Shaddin

Miklos felt his scowl deepen as the two chattered on about him like he wasn't even there. Iskra cawed harshly and flapped her wings, picking up on his discomfort and mild anger. He shushed her absentmindedly, like he wasn't even aware he was soothing the bird. "I'm right here, y'know," Miklos put in as mildly as he could manage, though he wasn't able to smother his irritated look. "They told me that they needed me fer messages an' th' like. Th' birds can do small things too."

Like bombs, he thought but didn't add. A few times, in the dark months after losing everything, he had debated trying to find an alchemist who would keep silent long enough to make a small, powerful bomb and have Ylli or Behar fly it into the guardhouse. He'd never been able to make the logistics of it work - either the bomb-maker he found couldn't make it light enough for a bird, or wouldn't keep silent about the bomb, or a whole host of problems. He'd given it up as a lost cause years ago.

Of course, if the people here had an alchemist he could work with, maybe it was a possibility again. Or maybe he could put one in Ferric's house, that would be even better.

"That's a neat trick, bird man, but the murder isn't what I'm worried about. It's the assurance you won't murder us. What makes me trust you?" Not that Three would trust the newcomer any more than he trusted anyone. But he had to show loyalty; one doesn't just waltz into Paragon, even with Qamra's seal of approval. Three wanted to really grill the man, tell gruesome stories of the results of disloyalty that may or may not be complete fabrications but would scare the crows out of him anyway.

But he wouldn't. He was in a good mood and this fellow seemed pretty genuine for once, if a bit gruff and probably bullheaded. That's alright. A little stubbornness never hurt anyone but the the stubborn one.