The stranger’s smile evaporated into a face of seriousness, and he slid the helmet back on, trapping the lavender of the mask underneath.

	He looked over at the old nun for a moment before flickering his gaze over to the entrance of the tavern and standing up. Without a word he slowly walked past the group and over to the entrance to the tavern, then shifted his sights to the apothecary and back again. 

	He measured the distances between the two with his eyes as he laid his hand on the pommel of a strange ashen grey metal sword that hung from his hip in an old scabbard. After a few moments of arithmetic he wandered over to a wooden beam that was used to tie horses to and leaned against it, directly center between the two buildings. 

	He folded his arms and the white horse slowly trotted over to him, lance dragging behind on the end of a quickly tied knot. The stranger shook his head and propped the weapon up against the beam before flipping open one of the leather satchels on the side of the horse. 

	After a few moment of rummaging, he produced a full feed bag, which he quickly equipped over the mouth of his energized stallion. The horse started to munch, and the stranger smiled behind his helmet before letting a broad shoulder fall onto the wooden beam, where he decided to lean.

	He inhaled deeply, ready to start his self ordered duties as a sentinel. He turned his head slightly to the woman who sat by the entrance of the tavern, eating and reading. He squinted his sun irised eyes at the book, but the words were too fine to be read completely at the angle he stood at, so he shrugged and continued to scan the area diligently.