As they made their way into the main body of the Dojoville, they'd see an older man. Unlike the rest of the dojoites they'd've encountered, he wasn't an out-an-out soldier. He only sported twin .45s, and a hunting rifle. His "armor" was a normal set of sturdy traveling clothes with steel plates and other various armor replacements added on to them. His gear seemed to consist of whatever was in his rather large pack on his back, which seemed to be little. He eyed the front of the procession, and seemed a little on edge. The show of force made the man uneasy, if only because he knew some moron might fall for it and attack or threaten them. "Howdy." Came his gravely voice was he raised a hand in greeting.