[Gallagher]

"Nae, cannae run off fast enough, eh. Why should I mind it. Never mind a thing." Kier grumbled to himself most of the way back to the palace, the pesky shield in tow and his hat yanked down so far it blocked half of his vision. Hopefully Amélie hadn't just left Sombre somewhere while she went off to... do whatever it was she planned on doing. Hopefully have her injuries tended to. Probably to pray.

As he let out a sigh, he heard someone call out to him. Well, probably him. He was always the odd duck. Straightening up, Kier shoved the front of his hat up and looked around, only to catch sight of the scarred man from before. "Funny way of greeting someone."

[Salone]

"Funny face to go with it, friend."

Ylnjor barked, looking down at the oddball person in front of him. He frowned for a bit, judging the man with a ferocious eye. For a moment, he was rage. And then like his chance in the arena, the rage died.

"Of course, the same can be said for me. Ambassador of the Norse, Ylnjor Magnusson. And what are you known by, other than your patches?"

[Gallagher]

He sneered at the man's comment, but turned his face away in the hopes that it wouldn't be seen. It took little more than the knowledge of his position for Kier to cage the irritation in his chest, and wipe the look from his face. An Ambassador, a guest of the Holy-Emperor himself, was not one to take a tone against, especially one that appeared as battle-worn as this. "Kier Bodhar, sir. I've no titles as important as yours."