Deepwood Weald and every day, I'd add another stone to keep you safe

Marruz tilted his head in a very mechanical and subtle way. Internally, his mind was feasting upon the words; engulfing every detail as it spiralled from the man's lips. Though perceptably a blank canvas, the stripling was amazed by the ease in which the brute professed his childhood surrounded - and no doubt isolated by - mysterious and intriguing figures. Seers and witches... Their very names struck notes of interest within the usually unperturbed youth.

When a vacancy for Listener was mentioned, he straightened his head; blinked evenly across the gloom of the Weald. Marruz had never considered how he might graft himself into the ranks of the Melonii. It had never seemed that he would hold any particular role other than simple presence and contribution to sheer sustenance alone. 

"What function does a "Listener" play?" his voice was somewhat less monotone than before, though he made a great attempt to disguise his piqued emotions. "And what skills are you looking for?"