[center][h3][color=993333]István Shilage[/color][/h3][/center]

[@The Otter][@Eisenhorn][@Psyker Landshark]

[color=993333]"We're taught to remember where we came from."[/color]

All told, there were little questions to be had as to just how the mercenary had come about to be plying his chosen trade beneath the banners of the Lions. The sharpness in his eyes told the tale his meager origin and nonexistent status belied, for what they lacked in the Goddess-given spark of noble bearing they made up for in shrewd observation. A battlefield veteran would need no less to survive well, and without any guarantee of underlings delegable for menial tasks like "finding people" and "remembering who went where", they were necessarily primed to assist him in picking up the slack these situations left on the individual. Where he lacked in formal sculpting, necessity had moulded him.

Something close to a smirk flickered across his face as they walked, the brew-clutching behemoth a pair of strides behind the golden-eyed hireling. Imagine Cadmon, having to run his own errands in such a way.

The North would have been eaten alive by Estival in weeks.

[color=993333]"And it seems such friendly fortune has graced you as well,"[/color] came the booming rejoinder as the pair located his charge after a respectably short while, the young heir's slouch concealing his height and frame in a fashion to the older man would, one day, finally kick the hell out of him long enough to not be so recognizable. [color=993333]"Yet still you refuse to cast aside such a [i]dull[/i] expression, despite your lovely company. Anger her at your own peril, boy, an Crownsblade scorned is a shameful loss for us all."[/color]

Despite his admonishing words, he spared the both of them any show of tutting or theatrics— Cadmon wouldn't buy it for a moment, and Lambert wouldn't find the humor. Instead, he simply strode forth, nodding his thanks to Urden as the task he'd set upon the man was now complete.

[color=993333]"Here."[/color] The mug in his right hand, slightly fuller than its twin, was thrust forth for the young Earl to accept. [color=993333]"Drink. The drums of war are closing upon us. You'll need to be sharp."[/color]