[color=6ecff6][h1][center]Aleksander, the Bear of the North[/center][/h1][/color]

Asking for Aleksander's attention, at least, was unnecessary - the young nobleman had had it long before he had called out to his gladiators. Try as he might, Aleksander couldn't get a feel for the young man: he had stood his ground during that 'interview' remarkably well, like an old soldier; but he was not an old soldier, and far too green around the eyes. A mystery.

A far more interesting mystery than any of the 'companions' that were gathered around him, at least. The brash woman was simple enough - Aleksander had overheard far more of the conversation between her and the red knife than he had hopefully let on. A wise warrior learned, after all, to listen twice as much as she spoke. [color=6ecff6][i]Excited. Confident. She will be quieter, in the end.[/i][/color]

The red knife, for her part, was well-spoken. Her armor was clearly new - she wore it stiff, and it barely fit. This was a person who knew her way around a certain world, but not this one.

Aleksander somehow had no opinion of the man with the crossbow, who even now was loudly kissing their lord's perfumed hindquarters; normally that was the sort of thing that would irritate the bear, but somehow with this one he hardly cared. That just left his countrymen, the Tyreni. Aleksander had curled up his nose as he'd watched the man savage that training dummy; he could always smell a problem.

He brought a haunch of meat up to his mouth and took a loud bite of it as Ignis spoke, rolling his eyes slightly at the speech. When the noble was finished, he swallowed and called out in a flat voice, [color=6ecff6]"There is nothing for which to worry, sir. I am certain we will all be dead before any [i]interpersonal problems[/i] develop."[/color] His voice quieted and he reached for his wine cup. [color=6ecff6]"...But I will protect us, all the same."[/color]