The minion trembled in Kaldir's fist as he rose it to his eyes. He was sure it would piss on him if he stared too intensely, but it was a brown and Kaldir had a certain fondness for them even if this one was just a house minion. Dropping the pitiful thing unceremoniously on the ground, Kaldir gave it another kick before it scampered off to some corner of the keep.

"Killing them only makes them useless, why waste the effort to break a tool that works?"

Of his siblings it seems that Kaldir was the only one who had inherited the spirit of martial domination, the will to stomp upon the skulls of the weak with an iron boot. Hanovar seemed more like the politicians of his mothers homeland, using honeyed words and intrigue to get what he wanted while his sisters reveled more in the bloodshed of things. A biased opinion but one he would stick with unless proven otherwise.

Kaldir himself paid little mind to the flourishes of his younger siblings, instead he stood ready for whatever news Gnarl had ready. Whatever it was it was bound to be important and he wanted to hear every bit of it.