[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/hSbxgyH.png[/img]
[sup][@Rune_Alchemist][/sup][/center]
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[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.
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[b]“It’d be my pleasure,”[/b] Isidore smiled coolly, even as his wrist continued to throb from the vice-like grip she held it in, even as his heart hammered against his chest at the surge of adrenaline (was it just adrenaline) that forced his body into overdrive, when the battle had already concluded. This close, it was impossible to ignore how beautiful Sorcha was. Beautiful? No, Augusta was beautiful, with demure, doe-like eyes, a heart-shaped face, and ethereally long hair that evoked artists’ depictions of Venus. Sorcha was [i]handsome[/i], a heroic jawline and strong features accentuated by eyes that weren’t light brown, but rather gold, golden as the lightning she harnessed within. Perhaps in the corona of Augusta’s beauty, he had missed out on this, but now…

[b]“Truly, Tamaln society lacks courage and good taste.”[/b]

He tilted his head to the side slightly, a silent request for Sorcha to release him, and once the warrior did, he took a step away, bending down to pick up the dagger he’d dropped. His fingers tingled still, a curious, excited feeling that matched the rate of his heartbeats, and briefly, Isidore frowned. The world the Goddess had deposited him in was one filled with beauty and depravity, yes, but the differences between this and the world he had departed from wasn’t so great that he’d have no tolerance to it. How on Earth was he still managing to feel this way then, like a twenty year old who’d only just met [i]women[/i] rather than girls? The raven-haired youth shook his head to clear away such thoughts, sheathing his dagger and kicking up his halberd once more.

Turning to Sorcha once again, he said, [b]“Ignore that. Shall we return to Leuca, or is there more to do at this armory?”[/b] A brief pause. His heart was still beating a bit too fast. In the absence of a life and death situation, Isidore couldn’t cool down nearly so easily. [b]“And next time we duel, I’m bringing a stick.”[/b]