Among the throng of men, waiting, smoking, joking, staring or squinting in the sun was yet another, largely unremarkable among the myriad of potential recruits.

He looked halfway fit, no musclebound giant but certainly no starving urchin, and if anything he looked a little more wholesome than most. A little fairer with his blond hair and gray blue eyes. He could even be called handsome in a rough sort of way.

He wore homespun, but his boots were nice, knee length supple leather with a distinct heel that had seen many a mile.

As the man at the table waved him forward he stepped up uncertainly and glanced around at the assembled veterans, his hands grasped a broad brimmed hat in front of him that he fiddled with as he spoke.

"Mornin...Magnus Kron at yer service sir." he nodded slowly and locked his dry lips. "I figured your Company might need somebody handy with yer animals, and I come from a family of Grooms, third generation. Them rich folk may love to ride their horses but their none too keen on feedin' muckin' brushin' or trainin' at all for that matter" he cracked a wane smile but saw that it was not shared, and it melted before the weary glare of the armored man with the pen.

"In any case I've got a strong back and all but one tooth. Never bore arms really but I know horse flesh better than most you'll see this far south, an' that's a fact." he declared confidently. "Can run messages or work stock animals, shoe, float teeth, trim hooves, break, train and geld too." he seemed to feel he was losing the mans interest. "I can sit a horse real pretty, and you teach me to fight and I'll do that to, no cowards to be found in my family, no sir." he paused a bit awkwardly and cocked his head. "So what'da say?"