Quinn
The warrior had stood silently at the fisherman's grave, not participating in the conversations among Lorien and the new recruits. The half orc seemed strong and battleworthy. The skinny elf, not so much; unless he could command some sort of mystical power. Then there was the gnoll. Or whatever she called her people. Quinn was not the most tolerant of individuals, and his face was showing it. He didn't let any of that interfere with his mission though. He greeted the druid with his trademark hand shake, where he actually grabs the forearm instead of the hand. It's an old thing of his, where he actually assesses the thickness and muscularity of the individual's arm.
The half-orc clearly passes the test. He nods and side smiles at him "I'm Quinn." he declares bluntly. "Its good to have a strong arm on my side." He then approaches the elf and the "gnoll". He seizes Phar and Aureus up and down. "Well met, I'm Quinn, master gladiator from Sulinon." Perhaps because of the strangeness of the pair he felt compelled to give greater detail now, preferring to share that information with Caerth over a beer and a meal. He didn't need his special hand shake to know these two were far weaker than he would have liked. But life had shown him real strength was often not as easy to measure. "If you have any questions about our mission, we can answer them during lunch, after that we sail."