"Good."
Juras stood up, and started to walk to his weapon footlocker.
"Name's Juras, by the way. Real name."
He kicked open his footlocker, and started getting weapons. For what he lacked in armor, he made up for in weaponry. He started strapping himself down. Five different daggers, at least three throwing knives, a longsword and a falchion on his back, a shortsword on his hip, punch daggers, and a scimitar that he had sheathed on his belt.
"I've got a fight in a couple hours, so it's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon."