That lightened his mood considerably, not exactly because there was the promise of money in the future. Instead, it was more that he would not have to bother someone for payment. There was nothing he disliked more than bothering people for money. "Excellent! There's no charge." It was a split second decision, but one that he did not have any regret in making. Although he was standoffish and awkward around new people, and paranoid on top of that, he tended to make a snap judgments about people and run with them.
He rather liked this Ser Ordhan. Only time would tell if that decision was in the right, but he had a good feeling about this. And Cyril did not get that many feelings - rather he was much more used to having poor feeling about people and events, usually right before everything shattered like lava rock.
Anyone who could put up with him when he was at his grouchiest, at his most bland, most bothersome, most babbling, was alright in Cyril's books. Only a few humans had managed it so far. The low numbers were not because he was discriminatory, but more because of the immense cultural barriers that cropped up. The vast majority of humans did not understand dwarves any better than dwarves understood humans. Those that held out a peace offering and tried to understand were those who were worth having a peace with. And perhaps a drink or three, but Cyril could not have much more than that before becoming amusingly drunk and doing something he would never remember. It was only a pain when it came back to slap him across the backside, sometimes quite literally.
Conlan found that part funny, Cyril had laughed too.