"Well neighbor, if the Orcs are thinking of stirring trouble..."  He faultered briefly.  It still chaffed a bit; he might once have said it was his duty to investigate.  That duty had been stripped from him of course, with the revoking of his title and the disbanding of his Knighthood.  He was just a mercenary now, and was no longer oath bound to such duties.  Then he grinned as if to a joke only he knew, a faint display of emotion that still came no where near warming his eyes no matter how sincere it was.  "If you plan to look into this, I'll ride with you."<br/><br/>He wondered briefly what might have taken a 'Messenger' into the deep woods.  There was little by way of civilization out there asides from the occasional hunters shack or old ruins.  He had a feeling, however, that travelling with the stranger would eventually lead to an answer to that question.  It came as no surprise the man had asked; he had been expecting, perhaps even hoping for the opportunity to come along.  If Orcs were organizing, if they were planning to attack the border provinces, well...there was little in place to prevent it.  Many lives hung in the balance.<br/><br/>He never moved from his stance, and his gaze never roamed the room, but finally stirred enough to offer his hand in greeting.  His palm would be callused from years of work with a blade, his grip firm but without the usual bravado-inspired iron grip to display strength.  It was just a simple, friendly handshake.  "I am Karllandren."  No last name was offered, no title given, as he indeed no longer held any right to such things.