Not slowing down for idle conversation, Adrian kept his pace as they advance into the mountain pass. Paying no attention to the obviously tiring John, Adrian trudged forward. "I ask myself that, a lot." Adrian replied to Crom, not bothering to face him. The group was looking for some form of entertainment, but Adrian didn't have any to tell. Was he to tell them the heroic story of him taking care of the family stables? Or maybe spin them the tale of how he once bravely squired for a knight in a tournament. He didn't have anything worth the group's time. Adrian turned his head, slightly, to look at Crom, "Have you ever......" Adrian trailed off. "Killed someone?" Adrian finally asked, as he turned his head back around, keeping his pace. Adrian had see a dead body once. He was beheaded for striking a woman, and attempted rape. Adrian was far to young to believe he was mortal, but also far too smart to put himself in a clear cut life-or-death situation. He had heard tales of battles, and stories of champions. They never told stories about the men who laid in the mud, unable to move as their armor only served to kill the wounded knights, nor did they tell stories about the men whom defecated themselves as they watched their friends torn to bits. Adrian could tell that Crom had seen many of a battle. He looked far more grizzled than his family household guard, whom he knew had fought plenty of battles.