You made good time. What news? Ixal? Got 'em all, huh? Poor sods.
I tell you, the high and mighty around these parts don't even see in black and white. They see in “dragon” and “not dragon,” you know of what I speak. All manner of nasties that don't breathe fire kill just as many men, but that's neither here nor there for them.
Ain't nothing to me either, I s'pose. This place─not enough men, not enough arms, and cold enough to make a man piss ice. I tell you, coming west to offer my services was mayhap less wise than I thought. This is a chill that even a bowl of Mun–Tuy soup won't cure. Ah, to be in Gridania again...