Falke isn’t in the habit of discussing what he’s looking for when screening recruits, but the caution in the young woman’s voice makes him relent just a tad. “Don’t worry, I don’t imagine the daughter of a demigod wouldn’t be suitable. I need to make sure they aren’t going to go… rogue. Do something that might endanger the rest of the Dragoons. That kind of thing.” Aren’t secretly pro-Voice and pro-Ascended, really, but saying that feels a bit too specific.
Managing to blanche a bit at his clumsiness, the Fixer reaches sheepishly for his cane when offered back to him. “Thank you. But it’s all the Artificer’s handiwork, really. Have you met her? Seraphina? She’s as lovely and talented the gold work on this.” Tapping the intricate design of the cane with a finger, he then moves his hand to the other button and makes sure the end is pointed away from both of them.
“And then there’s this, he says, pressing the button and revealing a finely wrought blade that extends quickly from the end.
