[center][h1][color=ff5000][b]Renar Hagen[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

This was a rare day indeed, for an otherwise peaceful era. The Iron Rose, assembled in force over a hundred strong. All this, for some admittedly-competent remnant forces. How Renar wished he'd actually been on the field to help crush their original armies but five years ago. Damn his old master for refusing to abandon his post to join the fight. Still, it served him little to dwell on that grudge overlong. Renar had won glory regardless, and now he stood as a knight of the Iron Rose. 

The strategy their new captain had devised was certainly simple, to be sure. But that in itself wasn't a sin. Years of experience in the field had taught Renar that complex strategems were all well and good until the plan didn't survive contact with the enemy. Then everyone's time was outright wasted. It was still too early to judge their incumbent commander, and would be for some time. One battle alone wouldn't be enough to tell whether or not Knight-Captain Fanilly lived up to the expectations placed upon her, or crumbled under the weight. So for now, he'd support her and follow orders as best as he could. 

After all, it was in his best interest that she turned out to be successful. Perhaps the girl would require a bit of prodding and assistance, given the truth behind some of Serenity's derisive comments about her in private company, but that was acceptable. Though Renar had his own doubts about selecting an otherwise untested maid as the leader of the greatest knightly order in the realm, she was at least given the finest training, education, and armament they had available. The order had survived this long with the tradition in place, so something had to be going right with the process. Or at least not catastrophically wrong. 

Renar easily dismounted his steed when the order was given, slipping his helmet on before brushing his trophy cloak behind him. The Iron Roses' resident summoner made his presence known while the Bastard of Brias made some final checks on his equipment, making sure his armor and weapons were fit for battle. The straps on his plate were tight, and his armament was sharp and oiled. Perfect. 

With his preparations done, he hefted his trusty poleaxe onto his shoulder and awaited further orders when suddenly the knight next to him spoke. Hah. Speaking of judging the Knight-Captain...

[color=ff5000][b]"Well, Dame Serenity,"[/b][/color] Renar responded in turn, not facing his conversation partner either. [color=ff5000][b]"A crown would be somewhat more presumptuous towards our sovereign than an orc's cloak. Should I manage to slay our quarry tonight, I suppose I'll have to settle for public acknowledgement of the deed from dozens upon dozens of hardened soldiers. That being said,"[/b][/color] His voice directed towards the knight opposite Serenity at his side in the line. 

[color=ff5000][b]"What of you, Sir Fionn? Care to try for a war trophy of your own? Should you not care for a crown either, there's always the man's weapon."[/b][/color]