Had Ordhan met Cyril's acquaintance Anselm, the knight would have heartily agreed with him. Though there was the occasional instance where he put his foot in his mouth anyway, at least these were much rarer when he puzzled out every word and every possible meaning beforehand. Most reacted well to it, besides. The population of Denerim was hardly well-known for manners, and a single knight being overly polite rarely earned anything worse than mild amusement.
As for the dwarf himself, Ordhan would have been surprised if he were anything but direct. Though he didn't possess the usual merchants' flair, this struck Ordhan as a good thing. He was always wary when someone tried too hard to sell him something; it always came across that they were hiding something about it, and they were desperate to get rid of the item before its flaws were discovered. When a merchant appeared calmly confident in the quality of their own products, Ordhan was more likely to be as well.
The last question made him pause. He ran a knuckle along the edge of his jaw as he thought, just above the red line that looked like a poor attempt as at a slashed throat. A suit of armor was a large enough request, and even with his stipend affording a sword along with it would be difficult. He could use something from the armory at Fort Drakon until then.
"Not today," he answered. "In the future I may need a longsword; I assume you can smith weapons as well as you can armor?"