With little more to say, Derrix decided to quietly follow suit with the others. As he exited the tavern, he slid his helmet back on, watching the rays of the morning sun dim behind its restriction. He took in a great huff of lavender and turned to his massive white destrier. the morning dew glistened in his silver fur and the icing of a roll crusted along his lips, but an overall content smile dazed the horse’s eye.

	“Charroux,” Derrix smiled warmly behind his mask, and the stallion nuzzled him in greeting. 

	The two butted heads for a moment before Derrix slipped to the horses side. He snatched the tied lance and quickly released the knot before swinging himself up unto the tall war horse saddle. 

	He booted the stirrups and raised his lance under his armpit like a flag, the sharp point spearing far above him. Derrix armed his free hand with a cavaliers shield that was tied  to the saddlebags of Charroux, and after a quick look around, he was sure he had everything he had brought to this town.

	Charroux stamped his hoof and Derrix looked ahead, all was ready.