by 
"How quaint." He spoke to himself, while reading his book. He remained posted on the top of one of the higher look outs. His feet hung over the edge of the stone walls, and his hands resting one on his book, and the other on the wall behind him.
It was a quiet day, and New Bastion was a place not littered with toons. He figured he would submerge himself in lore and stories to get a better idea of the world. This was also as to know some background of some people he may cross. Even if he would not cross paths with everyone, he would know someone who will, or already had.
Stopping his place on his page, he took a moment to think. He wondered if sending his members to the Iron Fist Tournament was a grand idea, or would hinder him instead. His members may have power over others, but sheer numbers of pawns can still capture a valuable piece.
He needed to think. He needed to learn.
