A small galley, having two masts with closed sails, oared into the harbor, slowing down more and more as it approached closer to the coast. After docking, a shout came from the crew and the ropes that held the long wooden plank were released, causing it to slam down to the surface, setting up a link between the ship and ground. Two soldiers ruffled along the established passage, and stepped into the land of Gobaith. Both were fully armored from head to toe, dressed in chain armor with a thin white sleeveless leather vest over it that bears an insignia of a cross, and finally, a pot helmet that entirely concealed their faces.
After a short discussion, one of them set afoot and followed the path and the sign posts. His gait was lofty as he kept his back straight and chin up. One hand rested absently on the handle of his sheathed long sword, while the other swinged back and forth smoothly with every step.
"Finally. A town in sight."
The soldier mumbled to himself as he caught the hazy glimpse of the walls of Trollsbane. He proceeded through the west gate, and headed towards the centre, just beside the well. Despite being a total stranger to the place, he maintained his haughtiness and his proud posture.
As he came to a stop, he pulled his helmet out, revealing his short black hair, and what could be interpreted as his arrogant, unfriendly visage. Holding the helmet under his armpit, and with his other hand still unmoved on the sword's hilt, he remained there, keeping a vigilant eye for any passers-by.
He would have been surprised to encounter races such as orcs, goblins, fairies, or gnomes, but he would also disregard them totally, with nothing more then an indirect glance at them. Humans were his main interest, though he considered elves and dwarves aswell. On meeting either of the last three races, he would immediately greet with a questioning tone.
"Sir?" directed to a male, while "Ma'am?" would have been aimed at females.
