Wait... No, something about this bunch doesn't smell right...

Wait... No, something about this bunch doesn't smell right...

What do you mean? Aren't they Evrart's guys?

They are, but they don't seem too keen to talk with you, do they?

No, they don't. Glen seems to be contemplating grievous bodily harm while he massages his raw knuckles...

In the far back, Eugene is doing his best to ignore you...

Meanwhile, Fat Angus keeps shooting you furtive glances and mumbling uneasily to himself...

And from his perch at the end of the table, Titus Hardie himself stares at you with a cold contempt that makes you want to leave the cafeteria straightaway.

Besides, you're pretty sure they consider themselves social democrats.

Alright, guess I'll look elsewhere then. [Leave.]

Let's keep moving, then. [Leave.]

Let's keep moving, then. [Leave.]

What do you mean? Who are they?

A little man, hardly bigger than a child, with a lean, hateful face...

You've seen the expression on this one's face before, on a dozen hardened thieves and killers...

Meanwhile, the fat one keeps shooting you furtive looks while mumbling uneasily to himself...

And here, guarding the entrance to his den, the undisputed alpha wolf, radiating contempt for you and all you represent.

You may not know them, but they seem to know exactly who you are...

They look pretty organised to me.