Gerry Woodcote is the local holy man. He follows the tenets of Pelor, but acknowledges the power and significance of all of the major deities. He makes rounds of the village and the outlying farms on a regular basis tending to the spiritual needs of the region. He leads regular services for all of the major holy days as well as tending to weddings and funerals in the region.
Good Morning
A bright yellow beam creeps across the dusty wood plank floor, gradually making its way to the misshapen lump of a brightly striped and multi-colored quilt covering the bed on the far side of the room. The beam lights on the smooth and kindly face of a peacefully sleeping man. Brow furrows and eyelids flutter, but only for a moment before the bright blue eyes flash open to greet another day.
Sitting up Gerry casually brushes his fingers through his shoulder length and board straight sandy blonde hair. He splashes a bit of water on his face to wipe the sleep from his eyes, drops his night robe in a heap at the foot of the bed and moves to the wardrobe.
He takes his time choosing his dress for the day. He selects a finely tailored, bright white tunic with a bit of embroidery on the breast. As he pulls it over his head, the bright yellow sun resting over his heart, the blouse swallows his thin frame. He tucks the long tails of the tunic into a pair of doeskin trousers. A heavy brown cord tightly cinched at the waist accentuates his lithe build. A pair of brown leather boots laced to mid calf completes his outfit.
Gerry Woodcote, servant of Pelor and all of the gods, is ready to face the day . . . and the ladies.
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