[Hider=Coming up to the gates]
Zevi sighed as he moved with Vannoth and the rest of the envoy. Out of all the rewards to be given, did it have to be a bride? He was still annoyed about that and while he understood it did not mean he was excited about it. The sigh was the only show of annoyance from him as his face remained passive and his steel grey eyes seemed emotionless. His hair was braided with a metal band in place instead of rope...as if for him the metal behaved as such, the red of his hair contrasting with the black of his horns.
Zevi had not said much for the entirety of the trip, but now he cleared his throat and glanced toward Vannoth. [color=magenta]”So…..what kind of bride will you be looking for?”[/color] curiosity sprung in those eyes for only a moment until it vanished. He was trying to balance showing friendship and being...what was it...drakkan enough. Pointed ears slightly twitched with amusement at that thought. He was now considered drakkan enough but he was still going to have to constantly be proving himself, even if he already had the reputation of one of the best blacksmiths.
Vannoth looked back over his shoulder, giving a scoff [color=#C9AE5D]“Whatever they give me. I already have to deal with one Gem. . . I don’t need an even girlier one.”[/color] He smirked, happy with his minor jab. Vannoth had been leading the minor procession of warriors, only two had earned a reward from the princes, the rest were coming for the tournaments in an attempt to prove themselves. [color=#C9AE5D]“Alright lads, remember we are guests. We are here to celebrate, not destroy the alehouses. . . Again.”[/color] He chuckled, having had to play witness to recruits and young warriors causing havoc on a daily basis he was partially numb to it, like a parent who just wants to club his children with a pillow filled with bricks. Vannoth stood at a fairly stunted height compared to some Drakkan, and was not overly broad or massive built. In fact, where most drakkan are concerned he was not focused on overwhelming strength but the technique was his bread and butter.
Zevi glared at the jab and shook his head. [color=magenta]”just for that I'll start making you pay for weapons”[/color] It was clear he had wanted to jab back, but suppressed it. It almost looked painful for the red head. His arms crossed as he continued next to his mentor mentally throwing verbal daggers at him but not actually saying any of them. At least they were almost there...then the brides could be picked up and they could go home...where they would then have to deal with the gems being there all the time. He suppressed a shudder.
[/hider]

[center][h3][color=#C9AE5D]Warlord Vannoth Mors[/color][/h3]
[sub]Interacting with; Nobody! (For now!)[/sub]
[/center]

He wasted no time as his small band of warriors entered Drakka and sent them on their way. Best they get far away from him, least their eventual stupidity cause him to tear his shoulder more. He himself made a direct line for the palace, he didn't want to waste his time as he was already in pain, and the sooner he was in and out the less chance anyone has to challenge him and earn his ire. He didn't care for the goods, he didn't care for the festivities, and he most certainly wanted nothing to do with the combat and tournaments related in them. He was wounded, and only a warlord on the fact he can lead and train others. He made no effort to talk to anyone on his way, save warning glances at those who dare disturb him. He was normally grouchy, sure, but being in pain has left him with a zero tolerance for the weak or the mundane. 

[hider=In Summary]
Vannoth is not interested in wounding himself more at this point. He simply wishes to get there, get the reward, then relax... I mean, you'd be a prick too if you had a spear shard in your shoulder
[/hider]