Berserker is not terribly pleased to be back in the marketplace -- not as a good this time, like he was in the dream, but as a rogue element. His role as a guard for the dignitaries is a good enough cover...an even better cover is the glamour disguising his draconic features. Normally, he's the one to create a distraction for a resistance member or one of the mirrorbound to free the monsters, though this time things are different.

His eyes settle on the lineup Waver's in and he stops dead in his tracks. They might not get along all the time, but he's important to Diarmuid therefore he's important to Berserker. If he let Waver sit here, he couldn't look his Bonded in the face again. Hell, he couldn't really live with himself if he knowingly left him here.

...What the hell did he get himself into this time? Outwardly, he's completely calm. Inwardly, there's a pit of boiling rage settled in his stomach. He doesn't know who got him into this situation, but they're going to die. First up is the seller. To take this one out, he'd have to be a bit more careful...All he has to do is get his hands around this one's throat. Snap his neck. Drop the body somewhere.

"How much for that turnskin, the one with the tattoo?"

For the cold death in his eyes, his voice maintains its normal cold apathy and his body language is neutral. He had to play his part to make sure Waver gets out safely.