Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20170721035105/@comment-5543592-20170721041247

The front doors of the guild swung open, and in strode a man of comic proportions. Short, but wide with thick, slabs of muscle, his arms and chest were almost like pillars. He had a blockish, rugged face, not unnattractive, but not by any means what one would call good looking. An unkept beard traced down from grown out sideburns in a particular pattern, not because he groomed it to look that way, but because that was the course of it's natural growth. He wore cheap-looking winter coat, over linen clothes. Despite almost certain being a hero, given his incredible musculature, this man looked more like he belonged living the woods somewhere, miles from any kind of civilization.

Gait wasn't a particularly accomplished hero, nor a famous one. Amongst his peers, he was known for being an unfriendly loner. What made Gait stand out apart from the rest, however, was his ferocity and ability to take huge amounts of punishment, and manage to walk, or at least crawl, away at the end of the day.

Held tightly in one of his gnarled, meaty hands, were the shoulders of a young boy. The child looked to be twelve-thirteen years old. Slim, he was unremarkable except for his hair, which was so brightly blond it nearly reflected blue, like a freshly lit pilot light. That hair was tousled, and the boy's pouting expression and dragging feet showed he didn't want to be here. He had squirmed at first, as Gait dragged him along, but the man had dug his fingers into the boy's shoulders, halting any protests.

"Guildmaster!" Gait barked through halls. He had a rough, discordant voice, more of a wolf's growl than what a human being should sound like. "Guildmaster!" He summoned again.