Having returned from plundering the corpses of the ogre-kin, Vrinn listens to the group as he scratches at his chin, feeling the beginnings of stubble after being on the road for a few weeks now. Before chiming in, he clears his throat to get the attention of the others, his face gaunt still under the effect of the ogre witch's spell "First off, I owe ye an apology Synovia. I shouldn't 'ave called ye a watery tart. I lost me composure. Again, apologies." he says, his haggard eyes looking into hers, sincerity coating his tone. "However..." he continues, addressing the group "...the house is still not cleared. Th' ground floor may be empty fer now, though no one's been upstairs yet aside from Ever, and I can't seem t' find her so tha' she can tell us what's up there." he pauses hoping that the mention of his shadowy companion's name would be sufficient to pull her out of hiding. "Bah. In th' meanwhile, I do have somethin' t' say. We ain't in Sandpoint any more. Calistria's arse, we ain't even in Magnimar anymore. We don't have anyone out here t' rely on but ourselves, so we need t' take things seriously. If there's one thing me Ma taught me, when you're in the wilderness an' away from home, it's life an' death. One mistake, an' you're dead. No second chances." he says as his gaze lingers slightly longer over Synovia than the others. "That bein' said, when it's time fer fightin', we need a leader. Unless anyone's got other ideas, I'm thinkin' I'm th' best one suited for it. Despite what she'd have ye believe, I did pick up a few things from Vinadea, I know what a well oiled unit is supposed t' look like, an' we're a long way from it. "Syn, don't take this th' wrong way, but even though you're only a year younger than me, ye've barely been out o' Sandpoint an' seen th' real world. Sure, ye might o' had t' break up a few barfights at th' Dragon, but that ain't exactly a knife fight in Riddleport, or a fortnight with Farnsworth. Ye need t' calm down and trust in us Syn. We ain't as helpless as ye might think we are. "Miro, ye're the dumbest smart person I know. Aye, ye got the book learnin', and ye have yer spells, and sure, if we ain't fightin' fer our lives ye have a way wit' people. But ye're too used t' fightin' by yerself an' we need someone who can co-ordinate a group, and from what I've seen, ye're reactionary. Aye, ye put th' best spell where it need t' be, an' we need ye thinkin' on yer spells, not th' rest o' us. "Gulo, ye're pro'ly th' most militaristic here, but from what I know of ye, which ain't much t' be honest, ye don't seem t' be leadership material yet. Aye, ye' can bark orders with th' best o' them, but there's more t' leadership than bein' th' scariest in th' room. "An' Chuffy..." Vrinn pauses his speech to look down at the goblin, putting a hand on the top of his kobold-shaped cowl on top of his head "...Grosilge would kill me if anythin' happened to ye." He holds his gaze with each person as he speaks with them, confidence in his voice and conviction in his eyes despite his slightly emaciated appearance. "If anyone has a problem with anythin' I just said, now's yer time t' speak. "But aye, we probably do need t' work out some signals, just in case. We might move out o' range o' Miro's spell, or like today, Chuffy an' I were too close t' the beasts t' properly convey a message. An' like Synovia said, we should talk t' the people we freed before we go on makin' decisions for them. We also need t' finish clearin' out this house in case we didn't kill 'em all already." Vrinn finishes as he taps the tip of his blade on the ceiling above them, reiterating that no one's been to the second floor yet.