The voice cut into his thoughts, and Caim whipped around. How had he not seen -- ?! But that wasn't important. The room was occupied, and he ...

... knew this man. Very vaguely - they'd met once, briefly, and talked over a meal. (Talked being a relative term.) Caim had almost believed him a decent person, aside from the obvious insanity in the man's one remaining eye, but now, with that expression on his face and those weapons bound to his hand (how?), doubt quickly crashed onto the scene.

Caim tightened his jaw and balled his own hands into fists. So, it was a fight he wanted? Then a fight he would get.