[Jeramiahh]<br/><br/>The Foreign Quarter, which is to the direct south and is the closest Osirion holding, is in less than ideal condition.  Ransacked and half razed would be the words that would come to mind for most people, in fact.  There are very few people not of the Osirion patrols here, and most of those are wary and rather skittish.  But after several hours of looking, Charles would find a older gentleman who was resolutely refusing to abandon his home.  The white haired old man had a drooping handlebar mustache, and was wearing a breastplate that was worn with decades of use, and even more of loving care.  A similar sword was by his side, and a much newer shield sat next to the rocking chair on his front porch where he was sitting.<br/><br/>Looking as Charles approached, his hand went to his sword, and he spoke, voice surprisingly clear for a man of his age. "Hold right there, young man.  If you want my house, you'll have to go through old Geoff to get it, but if not, we have no quarrel."