Nico shifted his gaze, assessing the newcomers with the detached interest of a sanitation worker inspecting a clogged drain.
It was a party of five, a motley crew that looked like they had been assembled from the reject pile of a discount mercenary shop.
There were two beast-folk, a fox-man and a dog-man, both smelling like wet carpet even from a distance. They were flanking a human who wore leather armor stained with grease and old wine.
And in the back, walked a hunched Lizard-kin with a hand that twitched every few seconds.
They were average adventurers at best, the kind who filled the seats of the guild to drink away their earnings.
But Nico's eyes didn't linger on their faces.
His gaze drilled into the leader, a human with messy red hair, specifically locking onto his fancy-looking greatsword strapped to his back.
