[center][h1][color=lightblue]Galahad Caradoc[/color][/h1]
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Galahad watched as Esben, Rudolf and Eliane headed off to see the Viscount. He shrugged as he turned to Izayoi's question. [color=lightblue]"Had we more time, I might. But I trust that Esben and Rudolf will gather what relevant information we need to know- and you're right, my armor needs to be seen to, and given its nature, I'm afraid it's all I'll have time for."[/color] He said as he tested his arm, the armor creaking unhappily. [color=lightblue]"I shall accompany you."[/color]

The trip to the smithy was a short trip, though the sight that he was greeted with didn't do much to bolster Galahad's spirits. The smith was drunk. Staggeringly, slurringly drunk. Galahad sighed, [color=lightblue]"Perhaps we are a bit worse for wear, but you're not looking too far off either it seems."[/color]

[color=lightblue]"My companions and I require repairs for our arms and armor, if you'd be so kind."[/color] Galahad told the smith as he began to remove his armor plates, first the gauntlets, then the pauldrons and arm guards, breastplate, greaves and the rest. The armor was quickly and methodically bundled up in an oilcloth and Galahad went to put it on the table, but paused, [color=lightblue]"Though perhaps we should wait until you sober up?"[/color]