Constans returned the greeting in the same quiet, mild tone that was usual for him. There was talk among the soldiers among the tranquil; some of them, like Ordhan, had encountered few of them, and those who had were all too happy to fill in the gaps of knowledge. The tales ranged wild and macabre, with little similarities among them except one consensus: Tranquil were creepy. Ordhan found this thought strange, not to mention unfair. He had already heard from Constans himself what "tranquil" signified--it hadn't quite sunk in, but it was nothing so repulsive as what the gossip reported. Besides, Constans was quiet and hard-working, keeping to himself and being polite to everyone. It was exactly the sort of person Ordhan could get along with well.
Ordhan smiled at Constans's announcement. "I see you have. That is very good." He was quite relieved at the news, actually. Though it was yet to be declared who of those gathered would be sent out, and where, the thought of anyone leaving these walls without some way to defend themselves rankled. Constans had, for some reason swamped by the secrets of the Circle of Magi, been stripped of his magic. Giving him a sword was the least they could do. It was, Ordhan had to admit, a strange sight: the young man, tall and well-built, holding a greatsword, but still clad in robes like a mage's. Ordhan was more used to seeing such robes on frail figures who would look more at home in a library than a sparring ground.
Imenry shot him a grin before replying to Constans, and Ordhan nodded at her words. "I would be more than glad to help," he added in. It would be good for Constans to have the chance to train against the both of them; Ordhan did not know the quality of training the young man had received at the Circle, but it wouldn't serve for him to fall into the same habits that led to his own defeat, this morning.