Once Ordhan decided that he would give the long-delayed offering, he imagined out how it would go. Repeatedly. Each time, he faltered at how he would explain away the delay, and even more at why he was pressed to give it to him now. When Conlan took out the bottle instead of proposing a trip to the tavern, Ordhan decided it was a good thing. Whatever scene ensued, for good or bad, wouldn't be out around listening ears and prying eyes--not that those at a tavern didn't hear and see a thousand things much more interesting every day, but better this be a thing that didn't join that thousand.
Ordhan raised his tankard with a nod, glad he could be of full agreement of the pledge. "To making sure they continue," he added, a bit meekly. That is what stirred his heart, what had always driven him in his fight against the Darkspawn. Even if now he dared entertain the idea of fighting for friends, even for himself (a daring thought), the motive remained the same. The idea of a world without the Darkspawn threat may be a pipe dream on the edge of fantasy, but it would be one he would chase until he died.