[center][h1][color=teal]Jerod[/color][/h1][/center]

Jerod was relieved to see the dark mage lady seem to at least back down some, at least letting the dark tome of hers fall back down on its chain. Well, that was all fine and well then, wasn't it? No soul sucking black magic to have to fight with then, or whatever variant the creepy lass used. Far as Jerod was typically concerned, magic was magic, sub dividing it was only really useful to other mages who had to use other kinds of magic to counter magics of the first kind. All Jerod had to worry about was that mages could fight up close or from a ways away, so closing the distance did not garuntee any sort of protection. Usually, he heard of some folks crossing paths with rather esoteric and unusual magic that could not be used close, like a bow really, but it had never crossed paths with Jerod. So he was a bit sceptical of trusting that some magic operated differently than others, in the regards of reach. Far as he was concerned, if the mage could see him, it was a problem and put him in range. Without being in range to properly introduce them to his axe. Rude, really.

The other woman, behind the laddie champion, introduced herself as the Exalt of Ylisse. Well, Jerod thought, he thought she'd be taller. It didn't matter, at least she was willing to listen to reason, no sense getting his ass handed to him so soon. He had a habit of reading people, and this Exalt did not seem like the pacifist pushovers of the past. Not to say they were pushovers at all, but pacifist fit more often than not, far as he reckoned. Ferox could probably learn a thing or two from her, like not having to immediately resort to bloody minded violence to decide the best fit ruler. That was going to bite them in the collective asses some day, and he would be more than ready to tell them that he had seen that coming from miles away, at worst. He grinned at the champion lad first, his usual near unintelligable accent as strong as ever as he gave him the first response. [color=teal]"Ach, t'ats mig'ty welcomin' of ye, sure a' sure. Ah am ready t' depart a' a momen's notice, ain' got reason t' 'ang around."[/color]

Which was true, Jerod had not made arrangements at any local inn or tavern yet, and had not intended to, to begin with at any rate. He reckoned tracking down the Shepards, or their remenants at least, wasn't going to be hard. Not with this open monument to them now being restored to its former glory, much to the apparent chagrin of the dark mage lass. His next attention was on the Exalt, his speech as plain as before, he was never one to stand on ceremony over much at all. No time for it, really, and he was no sworn citizen of Ylisse (at this point, of anywhere far as the fighter was concerned), so polite and scraping the dirt with his face from bowing so low were two entirely different things. [color=teal]"No 'ard feelin's, yer Exaltness, or 'owever i's s'pposed t' be said. Random noggin' strangers showin' up on t'e doorstep o' yer barracks t' be renovated, ah would be mighty concerned ah well."[/color] Jerod of course nearly shit himself at the sound of a dragon. Last time he had the misfortune of crossing paths with a Manakate, well, leave it to say that it was the closest he had come to being killed. The bloody things honestly did not sit well with the fighter, and having one barge out of the barracks did not sit well with the fighter, to say the least.

[color=teal]"Ah, should ah be 'xpectin' bloody dragons t' be bargin' out o' every abandoned buildin' ye lot 'ave? Most o' t'em dragonfolk an' m'self ne'er got 'long real well. Mos'ly on t'e part o' t'e former tryin' t' torch t'e bloody 'ell out o' t'e latter, savvy? Oh, an ye dark magic lass, ah would 'ighly apprecia'e if ye dinnae use m' carcass fer spell par's un'il [i]AFTER[/i] ah'm dead, eh? No offense t' ye, bu' las' dark spell slinger ah done crossed pat's wit' right tried t' use me fer some brazen plan t' do 'ell knows what."[/color] Jerod was aware that maybe a fourth of what he was saying was probably getting through, but it was never something he was terribly good at. Besides, people on the wrong side of his axe tended to react even worse when he was bearing down on them, screaming in some bloody half unintelligable string of curses that left them unable to really react on a proper level. Being able to make all of it out, well, probably would diminish things quite a bit. That, and it wasn't like he was ever going to be taught a proper way to speak, so he spoke as he always had. Damn near impossible to understand at points.