[center][h3][color=silver]Corvo Rathmore[/color][/h3][/center]

Corvo leaned up against one of the many poles that dotted the tournament landscape, watching as people buzzed by and knights donned their finest armors in an effort to prove that they were the superior warrior. All of the glistening, shinning knights in armor with all their squires and weapons proudly put on display for the world to see, Corvo never truly managed to understand that aspect of the upper classes, must have been something that even living amongst them for a decade still hadn't fixed. Back when he was young and on the streets, one of the many unspoken rules was to never flaunt your wealth and power lest you were a gang leader of note or wanted to wake up with all your goodies stolen, if you even woke up at all.

Sighing as he heavier his body off its resting place, the young man growled as the sun flickered into his open eye. He cracked his wrists and swiftly sought out his lord, Spymaster Ar of House Rathmore, and once again check to ensure he had no more orders from his adoptive father. Parting the people in front of him, Corvo spotted the spymaster and made great haste in getting to him.

[color=silver]"Sir, is there anything which thou requests of me for?"[/color] Corvo's voice was low and hush, another force of habit no doubt. Should Ar require him to do anything it would be some sort of careful watching of someone of note or perhaps an attempt to seek out some shady activities of certain unscrupulous individuals. If there was nothing of the sort, Corvo would cozy up some place and enjoy the games, not that he'd be carefully watching none the less.

[@Hippocamp]