"Greetings. My name is Salvyn. Would you lads care for a bite?"
The overly-dressed one turned around, distracted from his quiet contemplation and discreet observation of a certain individual by the whiff of burnt rye. Now facing a young man before him, fair of skin and free of scars. At least, as far as he could see. Blue eyes. Hmm. His hands held out a bag generously, within were the much needed supplies he sought for lunch. Oh lunch. The journey he took to this place was long and days of hardtack with salt water in the carriage was hardly a comfort, bread like this would atone for all that. He thought for abit,
"Generosity like yours is very rare these days, young man." A dry but sleek voice complimented the youngster. "Blessed be are those who give without asking." A gauntleted hand slipped out from under the poncho to draw a cross from temple to chest.
But alas, to take the bread means to eat it here and to eat it here means to take off his helm. Something he could not do now, nor did he want to sully the confection by holding it in his hand till a private moment - for maker-knows how long that would be.
"But I've had my meal-" No, he did not. "-just a while ago. Anymore and I won't be able to fit in this rusty old bucket." He said amusedly and his hand slipped back under the fabric. "Thank you still, my child."
He glanced towards the other young man who accompanied the bread-giver, he too looked slightly out of place. Slightly more squinted eyes, a skin colour between tan and fair that he does not remember seeing before. Hair as dark as night. These two were an odd couple. Most definitely. But the fact that they were here meant that they likely had skills, uncanny skills, that were required by this 'Order'.
Appearances did not matter, but the way they, or at lest one of them, - approached this knight, made them a welcomed sight indeed. If this is any indication of the 'Order's future disposition.
The overly-dressed one turned around, distracted from his quiet contemplation and discreet observation of a certain individual by the whiff of burnt rye. Now facing a young man before him, fair of skin and free of scars. At least, as far as he could see. Blue eyes. Hmm. His hands held out a bag generously, within were the much needed supplies he sought for lunch. Oh lunch. The journey he took to this place was long and days of hardtack with salt water in the carriage was hardly a comfort, bread like this would atone for all that. He thought for abit,
"Generosity like yours is very rare these days, young man." A dry but sleek voice complimented the youngster. "Blessed be are those who give without asking." A gauntleted hand slipped out from under the poncho to draw a cross from temple to chest.
But alas, to take the bread means to eat it here and to eat it here means to take off his helm. Something he could not do now, nor did he want to sully the confection by holding it in his hand till a private moment - for maker-knows how long that would be.
"But I've had my meal-" No, he did not. "-just a while ago. Anymore and I won't be able to fit in this rusty old bucket." He said amusedly and his hand slipped back under the fabric. "Thank you still, my child."
He glanced towards the other young man who accompanied the bread-giver, he too looked slightly out of place. Slightly more squinted eyes, a skin colour between tan and fair that he does not remember seeing before. Hair as dark as night. These two were an odd couple. Most definitely. But the fact that they were here meant that they likely had skills, uncanny skills, that were required by this 'Order'.
Appearances did not matter, but the way they, or at lest one of them, - approached this knight, made them a welcomed sight indeed. If this is any indication of the 'Order's future disposition.
