[center][h2][color=82ca9d]Irian Sinewell[/color][/h2][/center][hr]
A band of raiders. Irian had seen them briefly despite his relatively shorter stay thus far in the Lions, but he hadn't interacted with them much at all yet, or having known about the leader much as well aside from random hearsay. Judging from looks alone, Istvan - the apparent leader - and the band, it looked like they fit that kind of strategy the large man was proposing: rough-looking. It looked normal that these individuals would like a pillage trip, and would run the moment they meet any real resistance. And it's free help, the elf couldn't ask for more. 

[color=82ca9d]"Aye, ten steps from around the treeline shall be your safezone."[/color] Irian responded, giving Istvan a two-fingered salute, before heading off to prepare himself for battle.[hr]
Upon his first duty in the Lions involved using a heavier, more armored but clunkier attire composed of half-metal, he was a little out of the element when it comes to more mobile tasks, but eventually he got used to the weight, and now, as he observed into the plain before him, his feet nicely tucked and positioned in harmonic balance on the tree, his bow and arrow at the ready. But his arms were relaxed, knowing that the battle likely had yet to begin, and it would be gradual. And while his work was still quite important, he needed not be on post for all eternity. 

Especially when his stomach was still growling. 

He ain't gonna lie, Irian had a secret distaste for Veltian cuisine. Especially and very unfortunately the elven cuisine that his people liked to serve were also quite [i]shite[/i]. Bland and uninteresting. But where he is from, it tends to be quite cheap and sometimes free, so he couldn't really complain but to soldier on. But he would relish in anything that would entice his taste, and for here today would be the cuisine from the Nem merchant. Traditional and authentic apparently. It was good, and he wanted a bit more. Just a bit more.

Dropping down from the tree with a thud, Irian landed gracefully with both feet, dusted himself off and approached the Nem again. [color=82ca9d]"Well, then your holiness Lirrah. May I have a second serving?"[/color] He said, having heard the Nem's proclaiming. His tone was casual but dry, quite a sign that he was being sarcastic, but who could knew for sure, knowing how serious he had been thus far. 

[@Octo]