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Gerald sat quietly within the group, oiling and polishing his armour. Small grunts of appreciation sounded from within his throat as he finished each piece and checked it over carefully. After a while he finished the final piece, his helmet. Removing a small strip of worn linen from his pocket...

((Sorry for late reply guys, my Dad had a heart attack recently, I've been having to look after him. I'll try and be more constant now))

Gerald had his armour and sword crafted to a high degree already, so after his purchase of a beautiful war horse, which set him back by 300 gold pieces, he set about buying a few necessary provisions. He bought and haggled for three more whetstones, a bolt of rough linen, three flasks of oil...

Gerald eyed the bag that was placed before him with slight interest. He sat quietly as the others went about their business. He was here for more important matters... He took the pouch and his sword and rose, striding out of the keep. The sun shone off of his armour as he stood in the...

Gerald's gaze moved to study the Lyrian man who introduced himself. Sayr. An interesting name. "I think that is a good idea. We shall be depending on one another, after all... I am Gerald Lightfoot." He replied, eyes still resting on the man.

Gerald watched quietly. He had not yet replied to the other member of his race, but he finally did so without taking his eyes away from the main happenings "My name is Gerald Lightfoot, what is yours little cousin?" He asked with a very mild curiosity. The conversation taking place was of far...

Gerald seated himself at the table, one leg resting across the other, slumped slightly. He regarded all those around him with mild interest, then turned his attention to the Denith. After a few moments of regarding him, he decided to finally speak "Indeed. I am here to claim glory for our...

Gerald laughed as the Lyria woman glared at him. He kept watch as she faced forwards. What an interesting character... Where was the lad? He shouldn't take this long... What was he waiting for? With curiosity burning, he turned to watch for the lad, and noticed how he had searched frantically...

Gerald walked along silently, hand resting on his sword hilt. Eyes studied the Lyria and Denith, taking in each detail. What an odd pair. He'd make sure to keep an eye on them. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, wondering where that buffoon who had ran into him had gotten to. That one...

Gerald grunted and turned around, eyes lowered as they took stock of the man that had bumped into him. His lips curled in a distasteful sneer, but, amazingly, he reached his hand out to help the other up onto their feet. Once he had done so, he looked the man over properly. Small, excitable...

Gerald makes his way through the crowd, every so often shouldering someone out of his way, his ears picking up the sounds around him, his nose assaulted by the vast smells surrounding him. Having thought better of wearing his sword at it's usual place on his hip, he rests it lightly against his...