"Oh we're just a small consortium of companies, you probably won't have heard of us, but you know how people just love love love a scapegoat! Though speaking of not hearing things," Xzar turns on Sam, trying to loom but having it fail due to the difference in size. "I don't know what rock you've been living under to not hear about the Iron Crisis." For a moment, his tone became harsh, almost venomous, but as quickly as it came it was gone. "No one knows what's causing it but all the iron that's been coming out of the mines lately has been useless - breaks after barely any use. Hammers shattering, swords splitting, armour splintering, oh it's awful. And the bandits." "Aye, the bandits." "There's so many of them! Ready to kill for a scrap of metal. They'd take the hinges off a treasure chest and leave the inside. That's why we need big...strong...men and women like yourself to protect us. The Nashkel mines are meant to be where it's all gone wrong, so we're headed there."

His speech was quick, seeming almost practiced and singsong, going well with his jester's paint, and eschewing any interruptions.