[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/hSbxgyH.png[/img] [sup][@Rune_Alchemist][/sup][/center] [hider=Inventory] [b]Coinage:[/b] 8 Silver, 5 Copper [list][*]The (shredded) clothing on his back. [*]A fur cloak. [*]Untanned boar skin. [*]Leather Belt [*]Knight's Shield [*]Knight's Dagger [*]Knight's Longsword [*]Dwarf's Polearm [*]Rope [*]Some preserved food Enough for two people to last a few days. [*]Roll of what seemed to be a mat of thick fur, likely for sleeping on Comfortable, but only one. [*]A heavy looking fur/cloth blanket. Cozy, warm and heavy. Good for sleeping in colder climates. [*]Communication horn Made from bone, hollow and likely used for communication. [*]A small pot and a ladle [*]Frozen canteen of water [*] Map of the Under roads. A map detailing some routes used by the Dwarves and Shadow Elves to travel in their subterranean homes. Its not entirely complete, but it at least shows the routes to the two most notable settlements and several other places of note. Unless you travel off the paths, you probably won’t get lost. [/list] [/hider] [b]“A problem restrained only within Sirithen society,”[/b] Isidore responded, allowing his spare hand to fall to his side. It slipped into the mess of rags and furs that his outfit still was, out of sight. Considering the dress of the Urutha, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if Sorcha had her fair share of invitations before her stay in Gloomhaven was up, if her association with Tamaln didn’t become another form of deterrent. [b]“A shame though. Much of your intrigue could be resolved within the span of an evening. Consider it.”[/b] Humor faded then, and he felt his own blood run cold, even as his core continued to burn. A volcano beneath permafrost. A life preserved within ice. A chemical reaction sealed in steel. But all that explosive force, all that tremendous speed, paled compared to the flash of lightning. There was no time to simulate, no time to envision the future. So it was good that Isidore had gathered his thoughts beforehand. The armory was too enclosed of a space, and Sorcha already had such a tremendous advantage of speed over him that there was no way his halberd was going to be of any use. No way except as misdirection. The crackling of energy was signal to begin, and as the swordswoman closed the distance instantaneously, Isidore took a step forward as well, moving past the optimal range of a sword and slipping into the territory of the dagger and the fist. The steel dagger pilfered from the fallen Apostle swung upwards to meet Sorcha’s blade, and his own stance compacted, elbows tucked to his side, knees bent, and back curved as Isidore’s center of gravity shifted lower. It would be success enough if his dagger could deflect her sword high enough that he’d be able to duck beneath it.