The helm of dark steel perked upwards at the sound of shuffling armored feet.<br/><br/>The Knights had begun to move. No doubt to meet with the Prince of Linden, and not a moment too soon; Perhaps even late, according to Morigan's opinion. Turning on his heel, he did not raise his sights to his peers, nor bother to walk directly with them. He would walk behind, to avoid their talk and banter of their noble duties and useless experience in the city.<br/><br/>He had hoped for silence, at least on his part. The long and reddened cloak that followed behind him moved almost as silently as the Knight himself did, and it was this quietness that he had valued more than anything else in the world. The only sounds that he wanted to hear was the gnashing of steel, and the glorious finale of him standing among slain enemies by the end of the long war.<br/><br/>His wish was not granted, and a fellow Knight had trailed back to walk alongside him a moment, the bright and young face of the blonde lad already giving an irritated irk to the green-eyed man behind the helm.<br/><br/>"Ah, you must be Lord Morigan! I had heard that you would be arriving to join us, but had not said a thing out of fear of being mistaken! Quite funny, no?" The lad chuckled away, going as far as to offer a<span style="font-style: italic">pat</span>on the silent figures back.<br/><br/>Morigan did not flinch. He did not even look at the Knight, instead keeping his attention perched to the walk ahead of them.<br/><br/>The young lad immediately fell silent at the lack of response, obviously having not known the famed Morigan Alhul enough to know not to bother speaking to him. Either that, or he believed he might have been mistaken with whom exactly he was talking with to begin with. Either way, the Knight continued on much to Morigan's displeasure.<br/><br/>"I-Isn't it funny that the Linden's now need<span style="font-style: italic">our</span>help? Look how raggedy they look! Surely they will not last the war! Ha h-"<br/><br/>Morigan had stopped walking at this point, his attention drawn perfectly to the lighter armored Knight who had tried to initiate small talk with him. The lad stumbled in shock, looking back with a surprised and confused expression. Finally he would speak again, this time with more concern.<br/><br/>"Lord Morigan? Are you alr-"<br/><br/><span style="color: #BF0000">"Do you find this war funny, <span style="font-style: italic">my Lord?</span>"</span><br/><br/>Morigan asked with a demanding tone, his posture forever straight and statue-like in the morning foggy air.<br/><br/>"N-no, I don't, that's not what I me-"<br/><br/><span style="color: #BF0000">"Then stop talking about it. There is no need use in discussing anything other than tactics with me. Do you have any strategies for the upcoming battle?"</span><br/><br/>He barked out rather quickly, as if speaking itself was exhausting to him.<br/><br/>"N-not yet, and I am not a tacti-"<br/><br/><span style="color: #BF0000">"Then be silent."</span><br/><br/>With that, Morigan turned his attention forward once more, his strides taking him past the young Knight and further after the group. The lad was left behind for a moment, though it did not take long for him to trot on forward past the cold figure and off to his peers ahead, murmuring off to them in shock of his treatment; And only receiving compassionate glances of knowing.<br/><br/>Finally they reached the gathering of figures, the two well-known Lord Knights of their regiment and what he guessed to be the Prince Krinwulf and his two Maidens. He was not daft nor ignorant, he had heard tales of the two women at the Prince's side, though most were rumors of grand mockery and disgusting banter among his fellow troops. Such was far below Morigan Alhul, who did not waste his nerves on whom held a sword so long as they could hold it properly and be of use. If the women had survived the first waves of the Tutar, they had something going for them; The scar on the face of one of them spoke more on this tone.<br/><br/>The Knights almost unanimously did their bows and salutes to their seniors, and Morigan was not one to step out of line with such. His salute was robotic and practiced, as if a chore he had to repeat over and over again that he may have some freedom in what he did otherwise.<br/><br/>Morigan was no Commander or General of any type. The Lord Knights had far more official authority than he had, but if there was something he had earned through hard work, it was his untouchable person and reputation that had irked his higher-ups to no end.<br/><br/>Morigan Alhul - The famed and seemingly "immortal" black sheep of the regiment.  What words he had said, and what treatment he had given his peers would have been enough to scold and demote him a thousand times over had he not proven himself to the limits of the heavens. The only thing that had kept him from being further advanced was time, for it was unheard of in the Bureaucracy of Lebidan for a Knight to swing up the ranks so quickly and suddenly as the had been honored their title in itself - Especially that Morigan had not the family to allow easy swing of such ranks or positions.<br/><br/>The fear of his rise was certainly there, though Morigan cared little for such titles and "authority" he did not already command with teeth gritting merit and demeanor. Soon enough, his commanders would need to face the inevitable, that Morigan would rise up to their level or above them and face the cold terror that was his unwavering demand for efficiency, silence and a perfect hand with a blade. The paperwork and requirements could only hold Morigan back so much, and they were long exhausted in strength or power.<br/><br/>Straightening up, his attention was once more brought blank and forward, awaiting business and battle-talk rather than pleasantries and the long explanation of family, who was who and where they came from.