23rd of Spring, 20th of Bell, 513 AV
Despite what many might have thought of Cyrus he actually rather enjoyed his trips to taverns. It was not that he liked the smell of stale beer and the loud uproarious attitude of most of the people there, it was more a chance for information gathering and observation. The tall man had already ordered his food yet he had not touched it, he was not particularly hungry, the order had been more for show than anything else. He had decided to seat himself in the far corner of the tavern, where he could easily look and see who came and went, as well as observe the interactions between patrons.
The muscular warrior was leaning forward in his chair, his hands steepled out before him. His massive greatsword was resting against the wall behind him, just within arms reach though it would not serve him well in here if a fight broke out. Large swords like his were meant for wide open spaces with plenty of room to maneuver the blade. The bald man was, as always, dressed in his banded mail as one never knew when armor might come in handy. It paid to be prepared for all eventualities.
The night was so far rather uneventful, nothing major really catching the ambitious man's eyes as the swept over the room. Still he was ever alert for ripples of change, one never knew when a potential asset may walk through the door.
Cyrus was certainly a power hungry and ambitious man, however that ambition was grounded in reality. He needed contacts, friends, and people he could trust in order to lay the foundations for his Imperium. The man intended to join the Syliran Knights not just because he had an admiration for their order, but because he wanted to gain access to power that could help him influence people and bring them under his sway. The path would be long and hard, but no things in life worth achieving ever came easily.
At the moment Cyrus was content to merely watch and wait, to observe all those he could in preparation for future interaction. He already possessed a charismatic personality but empires were not forged by charisma alone, nor did it effectively win hearts and minds. Intelligence was a major factor for any successful dictator, something he had in spades. Never moving when people expected, always staying one step ahead of ones rivals, this was the mark of a skilled strategist.
So he would continue to plot in silence for now, the gears of thought moving like well oiled machines in his head as they absorbed every scrap of useful information. Unfortunately, as he observed a drunk start a dreadfully off key tune he noted that there seemed to be precious little useful information here tonight.
OOC Receipt: -5 SM for the meal.
