[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b]
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[b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] Outside Castle Candaeln
[b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b]
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Lein breathed a sigh of relief as the other knights had quickly followed up on the open opportunity and dealt the finishing blows. As he surveyed the battlefield. Those who wore the Bandit King's colors were all now dead or going the same way, and many knights were raising their weapons in victory. Lein regarded the beast, its fearsome beak that had threatened to shred Lein just a minute ago now holding its own blood-ridden guts. Certainly, there was a sense of victory to have but there was an inevitable tinge of sadness to have reduced a beast of heraldry to a carcass. He should make best use of what was left.

Before others could claim their own trophies, Lein plucked a handful of the largest pinions and folded them into his armor, careful not to ruffle them out of shape. Some of them could be kept as mementos, perhaps others he could fetch a handsome exchange from a thrill-seeking noble. Either way, there was coin here - the griffin would gift its last. As he filed out with the rest of the knights, he look one last glancing look across the broken field that now housed littered corpses of bandits and knights alike, and rested an eye on the remains of a man who had boasted the title "Bandit King". 

So goes all glory.

-<>-

Finally, some downtime. Lein had been craving to simply kick back and relax on the castle walls or badger the touchy lion knight Serenity, shooting an amused look at Morianne after Serenity growled a warning toward her, but he had a couple choice matters to attend to first. The march was rather short for sure, but some businesses should not halt. Lein peeled off his armor and heaped it into the approximation of organization (whoever suffered the most at the sight of badly racked equipment was sure to tidy up anyway), and jumped into a set of worn and gangly tunics.

Sparing little time, Lein sped past the rest of the Knights and hopped his way down to below the bridge, careful to pick the path most shaded with rocks and reeds. There - a modest wooden object, tucked neatly up against the meeting of two broken tiles. He deftly slid it out of its moss-covered hiding place and rattled it to make sure the contents were intact. Two soft thuds. Good, looks like none touched this one. Lein just had to make sure to deliver them properly.

As he rounded back up toward the bridge, the box slung behind the shoulder in a fishing net, Lein bumped into a tall figure with fiery red hair, nearly tripping the Hundi runt over in his unbreaking stride. Sergio. Hmm. The red-headed noble struck Lein as somewhat of a prude, the preening sort that visited the local church once every day and twice on off-days. The occasion scars Lein spied from across the training field did tell of battles vicious, but there was something about the pious types that rubbed Lein the wrong way. Still, not much of someone to be wary of, as long as Sergio wasn't somehow tied to the blood-sucking crone.

Ears twitching innocuously, Lein smiled. [color=orange]"Reon's tits, going somewhere fast?" [/color]