A Fateful Meeting: Which witch is a witch

Johann's smile widened and almost threatened to turn into a guffaw as Malmir's well timed swearing lightened the mood.

Your name is... Bollocks

He'd have to remember that one - it was a moniker that might stick...

The joke was certainly well-timed (he'd have to readjust his opinion of Malmir's people skills) and inspired some kind of rudimentary bonhomie amongst most of the nacent group of adventurers. Casting his experienced eye across his new found companions, Johann couldn't help but smile wryly to himself.

So, he thought to himself, you've sold your boat and left a good and honest, if dull living, fallen in with an Elf, almost fallen out with a Halfling, and volunteered for some vague, but definitely dangerous "reposession" work

As he adjusted his mindset to his new circumstances, Johann looked on, surprisingly somewhat unsurprised, to see some high falutin' young woman march into their midst and accost his new found Elven comrade. She had connections, that much was clear - Johann just hoped this wasn't all she had. In his opinion, there were two kinds of people in this world. Those who knew people and those who could handle themselves...

As he followed their new found mistress, who led a rather bemused Elf in tow, Johann struggled to keep his usaully well repressed emotions in check. Out of the corner of his eye, he has spotted the young street urchin, who had been sheltering under the ample wing of Werner, stamp her feet in impotent rage. She was certainly a feisty one, although she knew when to talk and when to do, and for this he felt some kinship towards her.

This was cetainly a rag-tag crew with no clear and proved skipper yet - who knew where they would end up up. It was certain to be touch and go and hopefully they wouldn't end up high and dry...