By the time Solomon received notice of a meeting-place he had already ensured he was healed and prepared for a mission. He observed the area first before entering by shadow-walking into a corner, as subtly as possible, to watch his apparent team-mates.

He's calm. Quite calm. It's been a very long time since he's been on a mission like this before, but he's managed to prepare himself by finding an adequate blade and dark clothes. The knife is small enough to put on his belt but remain covered by his coat. He doesn't particularly like blades, or guns, or most sorts of mundane weapons, but given the state of his magic right now he can't afford not to take one.

There's one man who seems to be leading the formation of the teams. Tall, confident, poised. Experienced. Enough possession that Solomon can see a tendency in others to let him lead. That was fine; leaders tended to be targeted. But, judging by the conversation Solomon observed, just a touch too self-sacrificial for his own good. Leaders who led by example were good. Leaders who let themselves die were useless. That was interesting ... or potentially dangerous.

"Throwing one's self to the wolves without knowing how many are present seems an exercise in futility," he observed as the man passed.