[center][color=#008b8b][h2]Fionn MacKerracher[/h2][/color][/center]
[hr]

Fionn had nearly leapt from the back of his horse, as soon as the order had come that they would advance on foot. As even tempered and well trained as the rouncey was, the saddle remained a place where he wasn't nearly as comfortable as he might otherwise be; no, his entire experience thus far had been as either a brawler or infantry, and carrying a lance or swinging a sword at the masses below in the charge still felt undeniably strange to him. He was far more comfortable facing his opponents on his own feet, rather than that of an animal, lording over them.

One of the changes to get used to, now that he'd received his accolade and been invested as a Knight of the Iron Rose.

Instead of leaping as he wished, however, he slid from the horse's back gently, patting it lightly on the side. [color=#008b8b]"Rest, lad,"[/color] he bid the animal. [color=#008b8b]"Weight's off your shoulders for now, and it's us who have to worry about keeping each other safe, not you."[/color] Of course, he didn't carry quite the bulk of some of the others. A hauberk cinched tightly around the waist, longsword at his hip, dagger across the kidneys, and a cloak about his shoulders; lacking the weight in rolled and hammered steel that the others had, he could almost pass for one of the common soldiery along with them.

Almost; the clever joint work of his gauntlets and the few articles of plate he did have on his extremities clearly set him slightly apart, though not nearly to the extent of Sir Renar and Dame Serenity.

[i][color=#008b8b]No matter,[/color][/i] he thought to himself suddenly. It had served him well in the war, fighting against Jeremiah and his ilk. It would serve him just as well now. He wasn't left with long to contemplate the chance that he might recognize this "Bandit King" or any of his band from past fields, however, before he was addressed by one of his comrades. He glanced up quickly, over to the two standing next to him.

He stood thoughtfully for a moment, pondering what Renar had asked, before giving a noncommittal shrug. [color=#008b8b]"If it isn't too tainted by the hand that wields it, aye, perhaps."[/color] He was rarely the type to keep trophies, unless it served a more utilitarian purpose. Armour was expensive; stripping it from the slain of both sides was an economical choice. Weapons as well. No use letting it rust if it might be put to use, to a better purpose than it had been. A brigand's blade, however, might be worth little more than smelting back down and recycling, to ensure that it carried no tainted legacy to the next to wield it.

He slipped one thumb into his sword belt, the other hand resting atop his pommel, as he fully turned to the pair next to him. He'd been dimly aware of Renar's answer and Serenity's query, and that which had come his way had brought the overheard, half-registered conversation squarely to the front of his mind.

And he paused for a single breath again.

Sir Renar, to some extent, he understood; more than a hand his superior in height, and with far more schooling in the knightly arts rather than simply in that of [i]killing[/i] on forsaken dirt, the "Bastard of Brias" yet remained a kindred spirit, in a way. Physical, eager, with a similar mind for strength of skill and body, and a similar proclivity for footwork over hoofwork. The scion of House Arcedeen was herself not entirely dissimilar, but where Sir Renar's skill and training seemed to embody what a knight was, Dame Serenity's, so far as he noticed, embodied what a knight was ideally meant to [i]be,[/i] and she remained no less skilled than any of the others for it.

But beyond that, he could not entirely put his finger on her. Her words and tone always seemed to place her in the nebulous point between [i]what is[/i] and [i]what was meant to be,[/i] and in that, she confounded him—but, perhaps now he would start to forge that confusion into understanding.

[color=#008b8b]"What of yourself, Dame Serenity?"[/color] he asked, true curiosity in his voice. [color=#008b8b]"It seems we're all in the van today, so there's plenty chance, like. Just depends if you're looking to take it."[/color]