[pnpgm] Coming in late, but here's my actions.

[Gilbert Isla]

Mournath sits at the bar nursing a mulled wine as he contemplates the
now-empty bowl of stew that sits before him. His tall, lean body
shifts on the uncomfortable stool. It's been weeks since anything of
interest has happened around him and this miserable town seems to
offer more of the same. When Veren Nor Tarek makes his declaration,
Mournath's interest is gained, but he does not turn his head to watch
the speaker. To himself, Mournath contemplates the thieves and robbers
that will likely take the old man up on his offer, only to stab him in
the back once they are clear of this town. Or, having been led back to
his destination and his 'vault,' they may well wait for the larger
payout and rob him there. Mournath continues to sip his wine, stroking
the long, braided hairs of his beard as he listens intently to each of
the potential 'employees' that wander up, taking note of the attitude,
bearing, and looks of each.