Trouble, headed Inull’s way. He often noticed people approaching him and this one was no special case. Standing to his full height, which was actually rather tall and broad, Inull gave an overly-friendly wave to the “trouble”. Beneath his helm, however, Inull’s face contorted with a hint of caution. Taking a short step back, he bumped into the shrine, causing it to shake a bit. Turning quickly around to face the shrine, his hand darted down and stabilized it. He let loose a small sigh of relief, turning only his head back towards this “trouble”. Of course, it was not named “trouble”. It was what appeared to Inull to be a woman whom had cast a glance at his shrine. He did not often take kindly to strangers looking at the shrine, mostly due to his own consideration of the shrine as a naked part of his body. While he understood that it would draw glances on occasion, he still disliked it, especially while conscious of it.

This thought caused the Templar to move slightly in front of the shrine, attempting to cover it like a leaf covers a naked man. While his back was still turned away from this stranger, his head was still turned towards them, measuring every one of their steps with a cautious nature. Each time the stranger drew closer, he would adjust his posture, trying to appear as intimidating as possible. He also prepared a speech about his faith, in case he would get the opportunity to use it.

He half-wished that he could place a hand on the hilt of his greatsword without drawing attention, but he had seen the Royal Guard in action. It was an understatement to claim that it was beautiful. Inull had greatly admired the swiftness they had dealt with the problem which had arisen and hoped that they would deal with any future problems in the same way. His free hand, instead of grasping the hilt of his blade, hung limply without any purpose at his side. The slight wind in the air caused his banner to flap almost silently, evidence of his allegiance and pride to said allegiance. It was amusing, really, Inull was faithful to a fault. He knew not his gods or where he placed his allegiances, and yet he still blindly believed that he was, for lack of a better word, right. Still, the Templar watched the stranger approach, his head tilted in the same direction. It was impossible to tell if he was staring or not, due to the fact that his helmet concealed his eyes, one could assume that he was though. As he stood there, he debated walking away with shrine in tow, or staying. This internal debate caused him to choose the latter, due to the fact that he froze in place while thinking about it. This was not a big problem, in his mind, considering that he had practically nothing to fear from the stranger aside from incessant questioning.