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

[color=teal]"Ach, w'atever ye say draconic lass. Ah've nae been ah pirate, 'nly crossed pat's wit' t'em many years ago."[/color] Jerod didn't even try to stop the Manakate from destroying the Armory, there really wasn't much way he could stop her right now. He just mitigated the damage to the best of his ability, knowing full well he was going to have to repair the place later when they really needed it. But the call finally went out for them to get onto the carts and get rolling. Champion lad's wagon filled up right quick, so instead Jerod hauled himself up to the second one, spotting some really floaty looking fellow and that Exalt lady. Well, this was a rather royal, pretty little wagon wasn't it? Jerod certainly felt out of place as he sat across from the dancer, grunting a bit as the weight of the armor coming down rocked the wagon slightly. He smirked, running a sharpening stone across the blade of the iron axe he carried while greeting the people he shared this wagon with, smirking as he commented. [color=teal]"Ach, ain' t'is some noble full wagon, now ain' it?"[/color]

Jerod didn't know much about this Exalt figure, to be fair, nor was it a real large concern of his. She was probably second in command, if not formally in charge period, and looked rather young for being the leader of Ylisse. Then again, hell, everyone was young once. She seemed capable enough in leadership, threats at him left firmly as bygones at this point, and left it at that. He unlikely was going to interact with her much outside the odd chances of ending up in the same wagon, so he didn't really sweat the thought much. Of course, that left him turning his thoughts to the other fellow in the wagon, and that was a very peculiar train of thoughts to be had considering how the man appeared to dress and handle himself. Certainly not an attire he ever expected to see a man wear, but he digressed, knowing very little beyond appearances. Seemed kind enough, long as he could hold his own, that would be that. He realized it was unlikely the dancer had caught his name before, and introduced himself over the sound of the sharpening axe blade.

[color=teal]"Ach, w'ere are m' manners? Names Jerod, dancin' man, at yer service."[/color] Jerod decided the nickname plainly enough, typically speaking, he rarely used people's names. The Champion was the lad, after all, and most folks tended to not get their real names used unless the situation was serious enough to warrant it. Otherwise, why bother, it was more entertaining to nickname people and let them complain about it later. He would rapidly become lost in his own thoughts, barring interaction from others in their wagon, staring at the sharpening blade while thinking. Hopefully they would find no reason to enter Feroxian territory, since he was sworn now and would be forced to have to return there if they did. Thankfully, knowing Ferox, they wouldn't be taking the knee in the face of this Crusade and would not likely need their help anytime soon. Much as he disagreed with their methods, he could not argue the results. In more ways than one.