Leon slept a relatively undisturbed sleep, waking only a few times during the night to unfamiliar sounds from unfamiliar people. Fortunately, his training had given him an excellent grasp of determining what was and was not a present threat based on the sounds that were made, or the absence of others and so he was able to roll in his bunk and return to his dreams, his magical warding circle undisturbed. In the morning, he rose and quickly wrapped the blanket around himself as he carefully smudged the runes of the circle to disarm it. He muttered a curse about the morning cold, the tent having managed to keep the worst of it at bay, but he had never really developed a love of low temperatures. He had always claimed he would rather boil to death than freeze.

Despite the foul mood, he performed his morning routine with the precision of a ritual that had been performed thousands of times now. He cleaned his armor and weapons, stretched and performed what few exercises he could in the small space before cleaning himself with a washrag and cold water, which only worsened the bite of the winter air sneaking it's way in through the tent's openings. He dressed quickly, putting on a compact, but fashionable set of middle upper class clothing before putting his armor and weapons on over it. Lastly, the golden lion mask was retrieved from it's spot within the circle and hung once more at his waist. 

Even as he dressed his body, he dressed and reworked the personality he presented to everyone around him. His current persona had been working just fine, a religious swordsman with a keen eye and a bit of wit that was eager for coin yet wise enough to understand his own skin came first. Now that they were closer to the job he would have to let more of his strategic mind into his personality, while not dropping his guard on the fact that everyone around him could easily be bribed into adding their daggers to his neck in a heartbeat. Idly, he wondered what Mask had planned to gain by placing one of his agents here, but his faith reminded him that his god had plans that stretched beyond one agent's life. 

Leon's breakfast was interrupted by Breck's men summoning the hirelings, and he quickly drained the warm water he had requested instead of ale and stuffed a piece of burnt toast into his mouth as he turned to walk towards the gathering. He listened as the wizard was introduced, though the name was unfamiliar to him. Hardly a surprise, since he had not been to the Chandlerscross tower and had few reasons to seek out a wizard for his own use. Still, the man must be of respectable power to hide a camp this size, even if it meant he had to be here in person to do it.

Tempting as it was to needle Breck into getting on with the briefing, Leon chose to keep silent for now, instead focusing on the wizard to see if perhaps his presence here was about more than just an introduction. Had the wizard scryed something of importance? Or perhaps he was hear to give an expert opinion on some of the tasks Breck required handling. Maskarran reports certainly suggested arcanists in the former capital, but that was little surprise. Magic was growing it seemed, the arcane weave was behind every single nook and cranny these days... as were poorly instructed wizards that were trying to twist it to their use.

Hopefully this particular wizard was an exception. It would be a literal bloody shame if their camouflage were to fail simply because the man was at a briefing instead of tending to his wards. The only way to find out it seemed... was to wait.