A slender fellow, perhaps a saltblood or lowlander from what you can tell, stands off to the side observing quietly. Dressed in an array of soft gray leggings, shirt and doublet, he eyes the group over a sharp-nose which gives him the appearance of a weasel.
"It seems you have your plans worked out for yourselves then," he says in a smooth King's Tongue with no accent distinguishing him from the locals. "Riding into a Dominion summoning pit to secure a tiefling defector is not your normal kind of day, but it sure will be fun." He grins a worrying grin, as if he'll be enjoying this all too much.
"Now, it seems the commander here, what was your name again? Has a decent sort of diversion laid out for us already, let's take that as our advantage. Even with this crude map here, I'm certain we can get a better idea once we get to where we're going." He looks askance at the King, as if he wasn't expecting to be here, or put in this kind of position.