Witold's expression shifted, a calculating look replacing his confusion. "Indeed, you are. My men speak highly of your abilities. That ballista of yours, in particular, has caught my attention." He paused, a sly smile spreading across his face.
"Have you ever considered putting those talents to better use? The Marauders could always use someone of your... caliber, and we would have some use for that ballista of yours. I wonder, where did you get it?"
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. "Oh? An offer to join the illustrious Marauders? How tempting." His voice was full of sarcasm Witold didn't like. "The ballista…" Sebastian dramatically said, "I made it myself."
"Interesting…"
Witold, either missing or choosing to ignore Sebastian's tone, pressed on, and that was because if the Grave Whisperer really made the ballista, then he was even more useful than he originally thought. "This makes me want you even more."
"No thanks; I like women."
