<div class="floatright">(http://pre06.deviantart.net/5975/th/pre/i/2013/258/8/2/the_musketeer_by_davidgalopimdesigns-d6mee32.jpg)</div><br/>Thomas had managed to get a restful nights sleep, despite or perhaps because of the fact the hunt was to be in the morning. He had forgone violin practise that morning, both out of a wish not to disturb every local in a hundred yard radius, and that he had to prepare for a hunt.<br/><br/>He exited his room and descended the stairs with all manner of equipment one might expect to find on a modern soldier. A this right hip was his sword, not a rapier of an officer but a rather plain sabre with a quite clearly worn grip. On his left was a simple dirk in a more finely crafted scabbard than that of his sabre. The most obvious piece that he wore however would be the musket, a matchlock. Traditionally he wore the belt with ammunition for his firearm, the thirteen apostles dangling from small lengths of cord.<br/><br/>Thomas noted the two already in the common room. "Morning." He said to Imriel and Malcyn as he sat down at one of the empty tables, setting the musket down upon it. "See you're still to use that rapier of yours, boy." Thomas idly stated to Malcyn as he checked the firearm over, making sure the mechanisms all worked and that the barrel was clean of any soot or other dirt.