A soft spoken man in half plate watched the discourse with a quizzical look on his face as he listened to those there discuss the Blackros issue. He wore a simple campaign medal on his tabard, the mark of a survivor of the siege of the Diamond City, and a simple silver ring bearing an onyx rose on it's surface.
"I thought this new...endeavor was to build up alliances." He said with the calm accent of someone more used the commoner's seats in the Opera House's noble balconies. "More about building common ground and less.. measuring of ones 'swords'." His tone was clear that he was prone to more 'salty' language and that etiquette of the courtly type was only recently learned.
"The Blackros have connections, skilled people." He said plainly. "We, the whole society, have gotten a great deal out of their connections. Access to that damnable museum aside," He rolled the ring as he considered things.
"Lasty.. I'd rather those of you sneering down your nose at them understand one thing." He stood up and poured himself a drink. "No one tells the old Lady Blackros what she can or can't allow. She plays the long game, and if she's allowing the Ulfen into her family..reluctantly as she might publicly appear, it's for some gain to the family. I am still trying to figure why she'd accept my dowry of Hawk's Fall, I mean the estate is only about five acres, the Mansion has literally fallen into the sea..but she approved my engagement to her niece."