Godfrey was marching on the road, he was a richer man then he ever had been, but he knew not how to ride a horse, and horses were expensive. If he was going to get anything, it would be to increase his protection, and that he did.
New plate, nicely polished (he spent the entire day polishing it until he could see his smile, he was so proud). He did think it would be heavier, but it wasn't so bad, must be because he's used too his chain mail and this was barely a burden. A heavy sack on his back, upgraded from his once simple sack jangled heavily with supplies, lanterns, including one underwater candle...one he would keep as a reminder of a promise, a journal in his sack as well, only 200 more days to go, only 200 more.
He walked with an even stride, scratching at one of his own scars, claws from some poor mutated creature, should of cleaved all the way through, he was able to turn his head fast enough that it only grazed his cheek, the poison almost killed him, once again lucky, the poison is what killed most of those people...almost put him in the grave.
He shuddered at the thought, his heavy iron shod plated boots walking quickly across the road. He was growing used to the horrors he fought, in fact, it hardened him, the more they said he couldn't he would, no one would deny him his dream, his goal, only death would stop him and even then it had yet to take him...yet. He knew he mortal, his day would come...but today was not today. His armor jangled, his shield rapping against his chain lightly, the chain rattling against his polished chest piece, his plated shoulder joints and elbows, even his lightly plated gloves. It brought comfort and white noise to ease the journey, even sometimes heat.
He stopped as he heard voices, voices? Where? He looked about, until spotting someone in the distance on a horse, oh he might as well head over, hear what news the man had, and if not news, then he might have some information, it had been a day or two of traveling since he fought the abominations away from that poor village. He grinned, the fields finally growing when he left.
He started to make his way over, a confident stride over, coming up in front of the man, he went to wave as he turned the corner, lossing him cause of a hill, he was standing with a couple of others. He counted, two, weapons out, huh...bandits it seemed. He looked the man over, tall, traveler of sorts. He shrugged, and kept walking over with a wave.
"Lo thar! See ya be needing some help thar?" he asked, as he kept walking, not aware of the man in the tree, only the two in front.
"Ought ya be ashamed? Two on one? Poor man only has his cloak and horse lads, I know them horses are expensive, but any of ya actually handled a horse before? Tempermental beasts I'll have ya know." he said with a grin drawing his sword and shield, sword resting on his shoulder lazily. It was well cared for, but knicks on the side of the blade and the dull of constant sharpening showed its use, and it has seen plenty. The voice was thick with country, not yet dulled by his travels, nor would it, it was a piece of home he would never remove, ever.
He kept his stride forward, chain still jingling, a grin on his face as he winked at the traveler then back too the other two, glancing between, stopping a little ways, not wanting to be suddenly attacked by sword, and despite his lazy stance, he was in rest, and waiting, who knows what a bandit would do, desperate folk they were.
"Now, hows about ya scatter? Much better ways to get food and coin then robbing poor strangers eh?" he said raising a brow, despite others insisting, he never got a helmet, just a simple chain coif, he wanted to see, and wanted all to see who he was. Be it enemy or friend, be it executioner or friend.
