"I prefer to keep my holy light on the inside," comments Jack with a mischievous grin. "Granted, I do not look quite so impressive this way, but it has the upside of keeping me feeling all warm and fuzzy. And if 'Jack Randlay' screams anything, it is 'warm and fuzzy interior' of course."
With that the crusader takes his leave to go and shed his armoured shell. He knew how to wear his armour comfortably, but it was not quite 'wear full plate twenty four seven' comfortable and he was itching to get out of it. Once it is all off and neatly assembled on the floor of his room along with his other gear, he makes his way to the bathing facilities. But not without his crossbow. Jack never went anywhere without Bessy and a loaded clip. That was just prudence.
Jack carefully stares upwards as he enters the room with the washtubs. "You know what they say," he announces, "Those who righteously slay the enemies of all that is good and holy together bathe together." Despite his lack of concern for objections to men and women bathing in the same room though he is not without a degree and proper modesty and does his best to prepare his tub without any misplaced looks and to lower himself into it with strategically employed towels.
Once that little dance is over with he just closes his eyes, rests his arms and massive shoulders on the edges of the tub and leans back to soak and relax. "In case anyone asks, this is for me, not Her Majesty."