Where's the remote

Javik listened intensely to his friend's words. It was indeed a recruitment attempt, and for once, Javik was willing to oblige. Alright, Zevran, I trust you. Consider me interested. The Crows have been on my arse for far too long now, it's time for some payback. What'd'ya have in mind for this grand scheme? Javik took another shot of his alcohol. It had been years since he'd last taken the fight to the Crows. He'd gotten so used to running as far as the wind would take him after House Occulara was systematically eliminated down to the last man, woman and child. He was the last remnant of a once great family of professional assassins. Perhaps he'd need not be the last, though. Perhaps he could start anew, start a family again, and bring House Occulara to greatness. Or become a nameless martyr in the process.

Just one question. I take it you want to restructure the Crows? Javik left out the other part of his question, but he was sure Zevran could see it in his eyes. And not cut them down to the last baby, like they did my House?. The question in his head was filled with venom. He had hatred for the Crows that far outweighed any sense of logic or sound reasoning. He had a vendetta, and it would take a lot for Zevran to convince him to let go of his hate and truly reorganize the Crows rather than put them to extinction like they did his family. If anything, Javik saw the Vultures as the replacement the Crows needed. The Crows were antique and outdated. The Vultures were new, fresh, just what the market needed. Javik raised an eyebrow at Zevran as he awaited his answer.