Jerod had been quiet after his statement and response, making his progress through the inventory of the cache before Andres, that pervert of an old man, came by to tell them more menial lot could do this job. Jerod could have told any of them that much, that a mindless fool could do this work. Of course, the knight lad dismissed them, which was a strange concept. Wasn't often folks 'dismissed' him as of late, he usually took his own leave. Granted, he would have anyways once he grew hungry enough to make concern of it. He did his own thing, he could follow orders, but those would be from Jacob. He was the man putting coin in his purse, after all. "Aye knight lad, I can grab me som' grub. Enjoy yer waitin'."

Like that, Jerod was out the door and gone, nodding to Andres as he moved off in a beeline for the mess hall. Food was something he could get behind, especially after mindless work. Walking in, he grabbed whatever muck they were serving at that time of evening and a bottle of whatever they had on tap, hopefully booze of some sort, and found himself a seat and dug into the meal, not worried about taste much, washing down the food with the drink every now and again. It was a mercenaries mentality, don't worry about food taste or drink quality overmuch, on the march, one doesn't have the luxury of find foods and smooth drinks. Get it down before the taste buds register it, and it won't be as much of a potential problem.