[ The symbol means little to him, his knowledge of Wyver largely limited to the stories and rumors that filter through the Olympian marketplace and the scant handful of trips he's taken there. But he has a good memory, and decent enough art talent that he commits the insignia to memory for later discussion.

For now, he contemplates the woman's offer. Bargaining has never been his preferred tactic of choice - he's a soldier and not a politician, after all - but if that's what it takes. ]

Very well, if it's a trade you want. [ Once more he hefts his lance, though this time he points it straight at her. ] The information for your life.

[ Then he dips his head, almost courteously. The lance, still held high, never wavers. ]

I hope you don't think I'll spare you simply because of your gender.