The barmaid was quick to replace Ishii's mug with a fresh one. "Keep them coming, lass." He said to the woman, fishing out two blue rupees as a tip. "You shall find yourself well tipped by the end of the night." The woman had a gleam in her eye as she rushed off. Once she was gone, his attention returned to the man known as Blade. "Please, my friend. This is no competition or battle of supremacy about whose dealt with more adversity in their life. What I have been through and what you have done are too different." He didn't mean to underrate the guy's life by any stretch. "But, I did deal with a lot of shit, as you would say. Some good things as well. One doesn't survive that for years without being damn good at it, I must admit." Ishii merely shook his head at the prospect of Alex asking the Order to help with his wounds. "I have not dealt with people of that Order but..." Looking around to make sure no one was listening in, he leaned in closer. "Those folks really worry me. I get worshiping the goddesses and such, but they seem to take it too far." Drinking some of the Stout, he sighs. "Maybe what they want is just followers to shape the world we have left into as they wish. They'll tell anyone and everyone a bunch of sooth words for their devotion, and yet there are those who drink it all up. Weird." Considering Alex's words, he couldn't help but agree. Luck seemed like the better of the options. "Maybe your luck only ensures your survival, much less those around you?" Matanzas pondered, then wondered if helping him was a good idea. "Or maybe it is fate. I cannot say one way or another." Leaning back in his seat, the Goron rubbed his chin in consideration, a smile on his face as he asked if he knew any fighters. "Well, I'm certainly capable of the task at hand. If you care to have an old ex-pit fighter such as myself help you with your cause." He said half jokingly.