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[center]	Holding his head with an idle hand as a Sol would inform him of new tasks to perform at the immediate request. Garrett hated the feeling he got when intrusive voices would enter his head, especially ones telling him what to do all the time. Such orders would only mean one thing, intrigue; on the newer entrants of the banquet. It could mean breaking away from the prolific gathering, and actually doing something productive with his time. Focusing himself on any newer looking entrants, those without a stuffed face, or laughing at horrible jokes for fake brownie points, he would see a Knight leading the charge for two females. Garrett focused on the females; not for anything but how interesting they looked, of course, the Vrondian hierarchy would take notice and intrigue of these individuals at this party of all places.

[i]Orders are orders,[/i] he would repeat to himself to ensure he didn't shirk his duties at this dull party. He would move towards the retinue of entrants to the banquet, those of considerable interest to those who gave Garrett orders, he had to block their path to wherever they may be leading themselves toward. Holding a hand out to the group, outstretched as an order of halting them in their tracks, he would do as he was told.

"[color=a0410d]Lovely evening you lot. I am required to ask for your citizenship badges if you'd be so kind to oblige.[/color]"

Garrett appeared, in his unkempt, cracked, and dirty armor to seem as if he were a zombie or an animated statue of some sorts, however, he did not mind those stares or remarks reminding him as such to carry on with his duties; he held his more idle hand against the pommel of his blade to prepare for anything with the group he was explicitly ordered to stop at the party.
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