The guilt twists at him again. There's no way to verify any of what the other man is saying, but if that's true, that's... wretched. Not to mention, he's just been cast back into squalor from wherever he might have climbed thanks to that stripe down his neck. Jon shifts again, picking at some fuzz on his trousers as they talk.

"I just meant... magic-wise. What can you do, magically. You must have some sort of specialty."