The Meeting

Ned scanned the hunters.

Twali and the rest stood still from behind, waiting for Ned's final decision.

Swift waited at the entrance beside the door. There, she nodded to Ned, her back against the wall with folded arms against her breast.

Ned looked from his left.

A lady with furry armor, cross-legged, with axes—crafted from what seemed to be a crystal stone—hanging on both of her sides. Sitting next to her was a man, in his late twenties, hair like that of an old paper, tower-shield—pointy at the bottom, some dent, from the look it held on its own—on the table along with a meter-long sword without a scabbard. Aside from the stone fixed on the neck, there's nothing more noteworthy about the sword. A knight he was.