Johann crawled up onto the dock unceremoniously, using Loic more like a ladder than a hoist. Feet got involved somehow. It was confusing for everyone involved.
Frankly, the dwarven woman looked like shit. Tired, dirty and bruised, it was a little surprising that she somehow managed to stay planted firmly on her feet once she got up on the boardwalk, eminating an aura of I-have-shit-to-do. She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed the opposite shoulders, groaning with almost vulgar relief. "Not injured," she admitted impatiently, twisting her neck with an audible crack. "Just knackered."
Flicking her gaze apparisingly back between the sulky Templar and the woman for a moment or two while she rubbed life back into her arms, she supplied, "Name's Johann. I got a cabin up northwest on the lake, crammed full of folks likely gonna be slaughtered by Darkspawn if I don't bring back help. Need to talk to anyone who can get me some damn swordarms, yesterday. Someone better point me at the militia because in a minute I'm gonna start lookin' for soldiers myself, and I reckon I'll start by kicking in the Arl's door and working downward." She spit off the side of the dock and broke into a steely smirk, giving the worrying impression that she meant it literally... and sort of looked forward to it.