In his final moments serving the land of Gondor, as he draws his final breaths, Gildomir remembers the time when he was but a lowly sentinel in the snow, facing no great threat more than a wild cat or two every week.
'Twas a much simpler time, when he could socialise all he wanted with his fellow guards. No enemy would show up before the gates, and so no guard really required any thick armour more than the mandatory uniform for some - Gildomir was a volunteer, and he felt very cold in the winter, so they permitted thick wraps for him.
No real requirement for hiding either, Gildomir could afford to adorn himself in a beautiful sea blue dyed hauberk that stunningly contrasted the sienna. Most of his armour, let's be real honest, was for the sake of fashion more than protection, which he got all from simply exposing his right shoulder, clad with the shiny shoulderpiece handed down to him from his father, and his father before him: an heirloom of a family of wardens.
As Gildomir closes his eyes one last time, he relives the warmth of the smoke he puffed on his first night as a snow sentinel.
Head: Medium Nadhin Mask (sienna);
Shoulders: Westemnet Assault Shoulderpads of Balance (sea blue);
Chest: Patched Hauberk (sea blue);
Feet: Vrushed Leather Boots (sienna).
