[Bradley receives for his trouble the most doubting sidelong glance imaginable. Honestly. Matoba couldn't say whether he thought this one was stronger than any of the other wizards he'd met, but there had always been something about that Shylock that felt dangerous enough that he thinks it would be more even than this oaf would like to think.]

[It would be pretty interesting to watch, though... Matoba tucks that thought away for the moment, because egging the wizards on to fight one another would have to wait.]

My, aren't you the proud sort? Perhaps that is why so many of you were picked up by the fox, hm? But now that I think of it, this one was not. Maybe that says something about him.

[Oh? The East, wasn't that familiar? On second thought, Matoba doesn't recall where that blustering knight was from, but he's certain it was neither the West nor the North. While none of Bradley's descriptions ring true to any wizard he's met, he thinks that he will take a moment here to commit them to memory, so that if they were to appear in the future, he will know.]

Blond, black hair... No, it is neither of those. Nor was he wearing glasses. But he is a kid.

Well. A kid for your lot. [And for someone like Matoba, who dealt with ancient spirits all the time, even one whose age was the same as his own was still a child.] Shall I give you another hint? He has an affliction, too. And strange eyes.