Yelling had Jerod on his feet in a split second, sword already half way out of its scabbard until he realized it was no one else other than their wonderful old man of the group, Andres. Sighing, half in irritation and half in relief, he returned the blade fully to its scabbard and set it down to begin dressing. Getting ready to go to Ferox had him far more on edge then he should have ever worried about being, but he was, and sudden yelling was never good for the nerves. Or a good nights sleep for that matter. The drinking hadn't left him with much of a hangover at all, but that didn't mean he was happy to be up far too early in the morning. Pulling the mail vest on reminded him that he was stuck with a group of rogues and redeemers that were marshaled into some semblance of a military force, under name of an old Legend. Gods help them all, he thought to himself, finished dressing out and kitting himself out with his rather light load of arms, as in his only sword.

The pounding noise hadn't helped his mood or concern either, and he moved swiftly out of the room he was satying in, looking for the man responsible. Looking at the fact that the princess blueblood had gimped the old man Andres, and the stern knight fellow from the inventorying had decided to make his own commentary, it was pretty clear that the old bastard had decided to wake everyone up with a pot and yelling. Loud metal clanging, screaming and hollering, gods would forgive a man for thinking he was under attack, and he was more ticked off now than relieved it wasn't them coming under attack so soon. He crossed his arms, looking at the aftermath from the Andres getting a brutal kick and said kick dropping him, no pity or sympathy in his accented voice.

[b]
"Wha' in th' seven blazin' 'ells were ye damn well thinkin'!? Hootin' an' hollerin' like th' place was bein' sacked, clangin' about like a damned madman! 'as age made ye dafter than ye look, ya blasted old coot?" [/b]Jerod was not happy with the old man, not so much because his sleep was interrupted, although that would certainly have no doubt played a part into it otherwise, but because the way the old man went about it was bloody minded stupid. Out at a camp in the field, that kind of noise would attract all sorts of unwanted attention, and would be reserved for if someone had already found them. Jerod was not impressed or happy with that kind of action, to say the least, let alone from some grand master of the tacticians.