Shalu nods quickly at the angels suggestion, as it was very practical. Oh, how Shalu missed that word. Practical, he mused. For the longest time, he had been around the sadists and psychopaths of the Spetznatz, and the word of the day were things like torture, cut, and hurt. Shalu never did have the urge to cause pain and suffering, like his fellow Spetznatz. Sure, he was the most self-suffering Arenea you could ever meet, but he didn't take joy in pain. Perhaps, being assigned to this group, hunting for Bettrin's precious trinkets with a bunch of misfits, he could finally get away from the pathetic sadism that so permeated every single thrice-cursed day with the Spetznatz.

At the trolls conversation with Chellion, Shalu curiously asks what the troll is saying. When he gets an answer, Shalu nods his thanks quickly, then adds, "Perhaps if we figured a way to coat his claws with silver, he could be an even better advantage. Of course, we most likely can't, so, I can't help but wonder..."

He trails off, and glances at Moastuo curiously.
"Barghest, you were on the first search, right? Can, ah, will you please tell me, if the wererats gathered in tightly packed groups? Or how vulnerable to explosive potions they'd be, such as alchemist's fire?"