Skriz's unnaturally green eyes flair to the point of glowing though it could almost be explained away by the sunlight coming through the window and reflecting off his face. The small ratfolk steps out from the shadow of the doorway and bows again, his cloak gently flapping out around him and undulating back into place.
"It would be my utmost pleasure to assist the Saviours of Sandpoint! Maybe in time your exploits will be sung in ballads passed down generation to generation, your accolades turned to legend and your legends etched into monuments of old for those like me to study and interpret in aeons to come."
His sharp, green eyes dart from person to person as his whiskers twitch. With a smile belying his intense curiosity and excitment, he asks, "So what seems to be the problem?"