Nero met her eyes with his own, that characteristic twinkle of amusement serving as a veil to a steely and studious gaze. It was with some humour that the smuggler noted how incapable of being dishonest Roen was; her expression was always a forthright reaction, and the knight could be read quite like a book. She paused at one point in her assessment, which was not surprising, given her past. The Brass Blades must have counted her among their number at some point before the Sultansworn did, and the idea of having to associate with them again must have drawn forth some unpleasant memories.
The smuggler inhaled, considering his words carefully. There must be a way for him to be in position to retrieve his goods personally. Roen might take his word at face value, but her companions in the Brass Blades might not be so easygoing--they were, after all, being used ostensibly to retrieve contraband. If they were as righteous as the young woman in front of him, there remained the risk that they would not be so trustworthy.
Nero wasn't worried about being seen associating with the Brass Blades. In fact, if he were to make any progress in Ul'dah, that was to be expected, for the Blades as a whole were more or less another bandit gang funded by the Monetarists. Dealing with them was to be expected. However, were he to be seen associating with a Sultansworn, even a former one, it could potentially tank any options he may be considering to expand. It was also rather problematic that Roen continued to keep in contact with her other fellows in the Sworn. With a certain grimness, the memories of the botched raid at the Silver Bazaar flashed to the front of his mind.
One issue at a time. The smuggler will deal with those knights later.
"I've no intention of slaying any of them," Nero replied, shaking his head, the gaudy earrings chiming in response. "Doing so would draw too much attention, and the Blades are known to hold long grudges. If they don't find me, they may end up taking their aggression out on the populace." His contention with the idea of killing Brass Blades was made more out of a sheer sense of pragmatism than out of any genuine moral qualms, but so long as it reassured Roen as to his intentions, it didn't matter.
At Roen's suggestion, however, skepticism painted itself clearly across his face. Brass Blade of the Rose? That must have been some sort of internal splinter group within the Brass Blades themselves, but the smuggler wasn't keen on revealing his ignorance on the subject.
"Not that I don't believe in your choice of friends, Miss Deneith," the Hyur said; in lieu of a nickname he was comfortable with giving the knight, he reverted to formality. "but given what you know of me, you can hardly expect me to simply let them settle it by themselves." It was bad enough that Nero had to leave the Taeros situation in the hands of the Sworns for now. Standing on the sideline was not his typical method of operation.
"Simply retrieving my goods won't be enough," Nero added, leaning on one leg. "Complex prevention is always more effective than a simple cure. I need a way to transport goods in and out of the city without having such annoyances happen again.
Nero brushed back his hair, the smirk spilling its way on to his face. "I mean, not that I don't like having my goods confiscated in their entirety by corrupt city guards, despite the fact that they're all more or less legal," The smuggler's amused tone enveloped his voice like velvet. "It's rather quite thrilling to be caught every now and then. But if I'm to be caught, I'd rather it be by an enraptured host of Miqo'te dancers. Chainmail and swords aren't really my type." He punctuated his statement with a shrug.
The smuggler inhaled, considering his words carefully. There must be a way for him to be in position to retrieve his goods personally. Roen might take his word at face value, but her companions in the Brass Blades might not be so easygoing--they were, after all, being used ostensibly to retrieve contraband. If they were as righteous as the young woman in front of him, there remained the risk that they would not be so trustworthy.
Nero wasn't worried about being seen associating with the Brass Blades. In fact, if he were to make any progress in Ul'dah, that was to be expected, for the Blades as a whole were more or less another bandit gang funded by the Monetarists. Dealing with them was to be expected. However, were he to be seen associating with a Sultansworn, even a former one, it could potentially tank any options he may be considering to expand. It was also rather problematic that Roen continued to keep in contact with her other fellows in the Sworn. With a certain grimness, the memories of the botched raid at the Silver Bazaar flashed to the front of his mind.
One issue at a time. The smuggler will deal with those knights later.
"I've no intention of slaying any of them," Nero replied, shaking his head, the gaudy earrings chiming in response. "Doing so would draw too much attention, and the Blades are known to hold long grudges. If they don't find me, they may end up taking their aggression out on the populace." His contention with the idea of killing Brass Blades was made more out of a sheer sense of pragmatism than out of any genuine moral qualms, but so long as it reassured Roen as to his intentions, it didn't matter.
At Roen's suggestion, however, skepticism painted itself clearly across his face. Brass Blade of the Rose? That must have been some sort of internal splinter group within the Brass Blades themselves, but the smuggler wasn't keen on revealing his ignorance on the subject.
"Not that I don't believe in your choice of friends, Miss Deneith," the Hyur said; in lieu of a nickname he was comfortable with giving the knight, he reverted to formality. "but given what you know of me, you can hardly expect me to simply let them settle it by themselves." It was bad enough that Nero had to leave the Taeros situation in the hands of the Sworns for now. Standing on the sideline was not his typical method of operation.
"Simply retrieving my goods won't be enough," Nero added, leaning on one leg. "Complex prevention is always more effective than a simple cure. I need a way to transport goods in and out of the city without having such annoyances happen again.
Nero brushed back his hair, the smirk spilling its way on to his face. "I mean, not that I don't like having my goods confiscated in their entirety by corrupt city guards, despite the fact that they're all more or less legal," The smuggler's amused tone enveloped his voice like velvet. "It's rather quite thrilling to be caught every now and then. But if I'm to be caught, I'd rather it be by an enraptured host of Miqo'te dancers. Chainmail and swords aren't really my type." He punctuated his statement with a shrug.