As the tabacoo burns in his wooden pipe, Uthor lets out a deep sigh letting the smoke leave his lips in a ring. The ring of smoke slowly vanishes he hears his nephew Artikus Silverblade enter the room. The aged tower of a knight nods towards him "Good eve Nephew." Uthor tilted his head as he was informed of the pending battle Uthor smiled broadly. "Be a good lad and get yer uncle his walkin' stick."
Artikus walked arcross the room picking up Uthor's Zweihander gifted to him by Emperor Godfrey. Walking back to his uncle with the blade in hand and offered it to him. Uthor stood up with ease as he took the sword from his nephew and slid it into its sheath on his back. "There we go, I can walk properly now." He chuckled as he beckoned his nephew to follow. "C'mon boy, we got fallen honor to restore. And much blood to spill. Lets see where the Knight Commander wants us." He said as the two made their way to the knights keep. Dawning his signature Silverblade Knight armor from his first days of knighthood.