Gostîm Shieldbearer stood behind Lord Gorth as he spoke, promising weapons worthy of slaying a beast such as the despicable Mordacious. Unused to such ceremonial entrances, he saw it fit to simply stand among the other men until his time came, and he could walk forward with a dull clanging given by the armor, as well as weaponry, he wore.<br/>To those unfamiliar with Dwarves, his stocky appearance would be essentially matching what one could have heard in any tavern of the Lands, the styled reddish beard included, as well as a pair of small, dark eyes hidden under the helmet's frontal guard. He could see Humans, as well as Elves, though he was certainly more familiar with the former.<br/><br/>"Indeed, I am at your service. I hope our quest will be a succesful one, and that our gifts will prove to be suited to the task they were forged for. I would, however, urge the other Champions to take their pick as they see fit, based on which weapon fits their combat prowess best. Wouldn't want anyone to find themselves unfit as to what they are wielding to get rid of a threat." His eyes would go over the other creatures surrounding him, especially on Eyota and her feline companion, as well as the mysterious, bone-covered figure sitting on the stump.<br/>As for the Elf, she was as graceful as one would expect, though he did wonder if her nimbleness would have sufficed.<br/><br/>Perhaps the one who seemed the closest to him in sheer power was a man who had sat not too far from where he would find himself after taking a polite leave and going to mingle with the ones that would have become his companions for the duration of the quest. The weapons contained in the drape which had been used to carry them only gave off a sharp gleam, and reflected the moon's glow and the fire's flames off of their perfectly symmetrical structure.<br/><br/>"This is a promising start to our journey, don't you think so too, friend?" Gall felt the Dwarf's deep voice circling around him, its' pitch a clear reminder of the depths his kind usually inhabited. "Friend" was definitely an odd way to describe someone he had never met, but Gostîm had always taken great pride in how open he could be when it came to interacting with others, no matter their standing or how they first posed themselves to him. As long as he could count on their respect, private matters -and how they felt- were much of a much secondary importance to the warrior.<br/><br/>His attention would then turn to Iseldra as she spoke. Though he wasn't used to her kind's subtle hints of displease and their fleeting mood, he could tell she wasn't as open as one may have wanted to think. Perhaps it came from the close tie to her kin, or perhaps her distaste with other Races that dwelled within the continent was a direct cause of elven ideology. Either way, he would have acted amiably towards her should the occasion have arisen.<br/><br/>As for Mo'Toya, she was a particularly hard one to read. Where one couldn't dispute the knowledge those dual-colored eyes brought with them, at the same time, he felt as if she was oddly distant, her mind's reaches perhaps too deeply-linked with the Spirits who roamed the mystical plane her consciousness was connected to to bother appearing as anything else than absent. Though he didn't worship any particular deity (preferring to direct his faith towards the sparks and fling one could find in Dwarven workshops, and the molten steel they would produce as a result) he could at the very least respect the Tribes offering them one of their acolytes to assist them in slaying the Dragon, or provide comfort to the soul.<br/><br/>The last words that came out of his mouth were directed towards Eyota and her animal companion, Alo. "I imagine we can trust your knowledge of the soil and nature itself to guide our perilous voyage, then. Your friend there seems to be worthy of all of our collaboration, too. Your bow will be a great aid to the cause, so I pray your arrow pierces the scale of the beast, and ensure a safe return to our homes for all of us. That is what I hope."