Roger stepped between the runner and Wilhelm. "Alright, alright, we get it. If you're trying to help us, how about a bit of personal space?" Unlike his younger cousin, Roger was not intimidated by the size of the runner, and rightly so. For a normal human, Roger was rather massive, though still perhaps not quite as tall or as muscular as your average mountain man. "For future reference, I don't appreciate being intimidated."

Wilhelm yanked on his brother's shirt to calm him down. "Uhm... if you don't mind, I'd like to speak with your runner friend for a moment..." He leaned in to whisper to the runner. "You know who we are then? Figures. I expect dad's got my face plastered on every wall in the kingdom. We'll feast with Lord Hamheart, but my identity remains a [i]secret[/i]. Rumours spread fast, and I'm sure there's at least [i]one[/i] mountain man who'll sell me out for the king's money." Solemnly, he took his hand out, which was still glowing, and allowed the magical energy to dissipate. "Don't look like you're plannin' on locking me up or cuttin' off my head."

"Who, these gentlemen?" Frederick laughed, clearly not used to the potency of mountain-man ale. "Good one, Wilhelm! You should do some of your fancy sorcery for Lord Hamheart! Are there any mages up here? Are we the only lowlanders here?" Frederick continued asking questions and joking with the guards all the way to the dining hall.