Noxias sits down tentatively with his comrades-in-arms, a drink in his hand. He seems somewhat shy. With several false starts and a large gulp at his cup he finally blurts out to the group, "For a bunch of people from a mundane land you all can hold your own." He sighs mentally cringing on how that came out. "What I ment to say was thank you for keeping me alive," he glances toward Yrisz; "and for blunting the tip of many a spear aimed at my person." He inclines his head toward Zephyr and Rogur.
"Over the last week or so I've marveled at how much you have done for Duvek and his family and this land, but I don't quite understand why. If it is money, that is easy to grasp, but if it is for love, then I am at a disadvantage, for that is something that does not come easily. There is no love lost between me and my fellows back in the courts of the unseelie. But that land is my home, and I was comfortable after a fashion. At least I had some coin." He fumbles subconsciously with his empty purse.
"When they threw me to your mercy you were but babes-in-arms, but you have grown." He pauses, clearly exasperated by something. "Uhh, this is coming out all wrong. I will have to return some day, I want to return, but I am not strong enough," you have to strain your ears to here the last few words over the sound of the wake as he trails off.