The mercenary pocketed the finger and let the priest blubber on and come up with something to say, laughing easily and clapping the man on the back heardily, which probably would stumble him a bit if he wasn't ready for it. He either wasn't letting the gift of odd body parts affect him, or he wasn't letting it show. But either way, his actions were the same as he also responded to the dark mage lass. [color=9e0b0f]"Tha's the spirit, 'ealer. Yer gift is appreciated, lass, an' ye make a good suggestion. S'all we?"[/color] They were no doubt aware of his curious accent, even most Feroxians did not speak the way he did so it was rather up in the air whether it was natural or acquired, but regardless, the mercenary led the two off in the general direction of the courtyard, assuming either of them had any desire to follow the man, he would arrive before the gates shut, and would nod to Niya who had beat him there, and would get no response from the woman.

Finding himself in a rather cozy fighting arena, for training purposes, the damage the one wall had received got a snort of amusement from the mercenary. Then some grandmaster looking fellow came out of a ball of fire, and he waved the smoke away from him as the champion lad himself and the grandmaster fellow, name apparently Andres, spoke back and forth and then the older man issued the challenge, and that got a grand old laugh out of the mercenary as he walked out of the crowd, tried and true iron blade at his side and nothing else of note as he approached the two, speaking easily to them, apparently undisturbed by the fact these two were some of the most important men within Ylisse. Either callous, uncaring, or had spent time dealing with nobility before and was unimpressed. Either way, he spoke easily to the two, taking up the thrown gauntlet before anyone else could stop him.

[color=9e0b0f]"Ancient beings like t'em dragons are powerful, aye, but t'ey ain' no gods. Ah'll give t'e lad a fig't, see w'at 'e's made of."[/color]

[hr]

[color=0076a3]"You may try, crudeling, but you might find I have more bite than you may think. Thank you, Ser, I will go and seek answers from the Champion himself then."[/color] Niya did not appreciate the unprofessional nature the wyvern rider had displayed so far, and it was clear she had lumped the poor woman in with the same treatment she gave her companion, and regrettably oath holder, Jerod. Disdain and distrust, but would not openly engage in violence with from vows or circumstance. Whether the two would follow or not was irrelevant to the healer, she took her leave and vanished, and would find herself in the arena before long. Within a matter of time the gates were closed and the old man of a grand master arrived. Andres, if her memory was correct, the head of the Tactician's guild within Ylisse. A powerful figure, no doubt, and he issued a challenge to the group, and an all too familiar laugh got a groan from Niya.

Of course Jerod couldn't help but take up that gauntlet. That idiot of a mercenary was going to get himself killed one of these days, he was far too stubborn for his own good and would not lightly back down from a challenge. The only reason he wasn't dead yet was because she had yet to see anything or anyone mean enough to keep that man down, he was resiliant enough to match his stubborness. Even shrugged off magic at times, which had genuinely surprised her and led to the oath binding her now. Until that man released her of it, she was stuck following him around and aiding him in his endeavors, for good or ill. Thankfully he sought out this place and endeavor, but it could have turned out far worse. A cool remark came from the healer, directed at Jerod as a reminder. [color=0076a3]"Do not forget tacticians use magic and blade, side by side."[/color]