[center][color=#008b8b][h2]Fionn MacKerracher[/h2][/color][/center]
[hr][@ERode] [@Psyker Landshark] [@Raineh Daze]
[hr]
Common soldiery might even have been a stretch, as Renar put it; mercenaries often carried a strange blend of professionalism and outright terrible discipline that set them well apart from the common soldiery and the noble men-at-arms and knights alike. [color=#008b8b]"Maybe make sure one of those letters you send out is a request for some instructional tomes on tactics to add to the library, then,"[/color] he said as he turned, walking out the smithy with one hand lazily waved at them in farewell. Though, as he walked on towards the main dining hall, the joke seemed to make more and more actual sense to him.

Certainly, most of the knights in the order knew more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery, but if nobles the country over had the same opinions that Renar was suggesting they did...he'd rather the order as a whole have more than a smattering of elemental strategy.

After their ride into town, the talk in the smithy, and all, by the time he'd made it to the dining hall much of the food from the recent meal was going cold; the servants and staff that kept the keep running were gathering up what was left untouched to give out as alms to the poor and such. While he [i]could[/i] take advantage of his status to have the cooks whip up something small and fresh for him, it suited him far better to take something from the leftovers that he could find. Some crusty bread, a few slices of roast something laid atop it with some cheese and the gravy from the roast that hadn't congealed, and whatever decent-looking vegetables he could find made a decent and fast late lunch for him; for dessert, a slice each of cake and pie that he could find.

One for him, one for the next target of conversation for the day, assuming she was in a good enough mood to converse at all; hopefully the dessert would be good enough to bribe her into it. Smuggling the two desserts he'd taken past any of the staff near the doors to the dining hall, he quickly made his way toward the paladin's usual spot—one marked by a collection of pillows, one of which looked suspiciously like the one [i]he'd[/i] noticed had gone missing from his bed before they set out on their little mission—just to find her bespectacled red eyes already placed firmly upon him.

"Can I help you?"

He held out the desserts.

[color=#008b8b]"Sambocade, dame Tyaethe, or a spiced pome tart?"[/color] He glanced back down at the pie slice. [color=#008b8b]"Oh, the tart has dates in it too."[/color]