Dianne
Kiervan Czerich, the rusty pail

"I'm... Fine"

He had not expected the man in fron of him to actually speak. In his mind, the old bandit was part of the decor.
Not only that, but the unusual courtesy caught him off guard. He then noticed the signet: a ring similar to the one Sir Bryan had.
So not a bandit, but a... Knight?
This was unusual.

"My name is Felix Far-Farer Ravenloft Reed, I'm a travelling meister in search of employment," He said. "It's my first time visiting Ibethiel, so I'm tired and coinless ―that was a lie, but this was a bandit tavern― but still healthy, thanks to the Hog.

What about you, sir? What has brought tonight to this table?"
Ralph
Sir Bryan Verandus, Rusty Pail, Hexrakes. 

Sir Bryan swept the dust below a table off with his hand as he inspected how clean it was while Kiervan was still discussing their rooms with the owner. He shrugged as he let out a blow to swipe off the dust that was on his fingers while he kept on examining the table before him. The bronze ring that he wore around his middle finger shines eerily. The signet on it represents him as a Knight of Ibethelian. It was a way to represent his status as a knight. 

He noticed a man had come inside the room a few seconds ago, but Bryan didn't hold any attention at all as he assumed it was a common commoner or sort. Until when he heard Kiervan said, " *Sir.* ". That's where it's got his attention. He slowly turned and looked who it was. 


It was an old man he saw, as the elder revealed his face as he wore a cloak with him. He was talking with Kiervan, it seems. The cloak he wore was a simple one though, with no insignia upon it. But Bryan noticed the ring on the elder's hands after he took off his gloves. Bryan took a glimpse and quickly realized what the signet meant. Something that Bryan knew so well.

He held a deep breath before respectively nodded his head for a moment. But he didn't make any moves at all. He decided to wait patiently until the two were done with their conversation or sort. Unless, he was called out by them. He grabbed an empty cup and suited himself as he poured it in with a jar of water nearby. He drank it afterwards.
Stacey
-Sir Hubert "The Bright" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).

"Well met. I am Hubert, you have quite the title young man.

Hubert smiled heartily.

"Tired and coinless? A bad combination. Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find employment here."

A moment later, a tavern wench brought Hubert a mug of, what you presumed to be ale, the mug itself was crooked and grimy. Hubert didn't seem to be bothered by this, and grabbed the mug, taking a sip. The froth coated his beard.

"What is a- meister?"
Dianne
"A scholar, a man of wisdom, an artisan whose expertise are teaching other craftsmen the laws of nature.
As for my name..."

Reed seemed amused by the question.

"I was born in the bogs of Taemar. It is tradition that our deeds and quirks earn us Shitblood titles.

Felix Reed is my name of birth, but I have an affinity for ravens, to the point some say I can speak to them.

I am thus, Felix Ravenloft Reed.

Or at least I was until I decided to leave my marshy homeland, and gained a new title.

Therefore, I am now Felix Far-Farer Ravenloft Reed."

The young man directed his attention towards the signet. Then, he leaned forward, covering his mouth eith his hands.

"And who are you, Hubert?" He asked.
Stacey
-Sir Hubert "The Bright" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).

"You can- speak to Ravens?" 

Hubert scratched his chin, processing what had been said.

"In all my years I've never heard of such a thing, I'm almost tempted to call you a con.
Regardless, that's quite the tale."

Hubert took another sip from the oaken mug and spoke.

"I am Sir Hubert Horace of Ibethiel"

Hubert almost beamed at speaking his official title, he clearly valued it greatly.
Though he did not expect recognition, his house and name had fallen into obscurity decades ago.