Antoir Setrrin
I've Met My End
Grinning like the mad merc I was, I slammed my now empty glass onto the counter and asked for another. It was only a few days into my traveling spree, and I had yet to run into anything interesting. No memories had come back yet either, which was rather disappointing. So what was I going to do? Well, I was going to do the only logical thing: Get really, really drunk in a bar, probably start a fight, and potentially go home with someone I didn't know. Okay, hopefully not the last part. But fighting, that sounded good to me.
Though it could just be the alcohol I had already consumed talking.
Humming a little tune I waited for my drink, tapping a little rhythm on the counter. Beside me was my helmet, the final piece of the Caedo of Moeror armor I was wearing. What? It's not weird. I'm a mercenary for Pete's sake (who's Pete?). Wearing armor is part of my thing. Chilling bars was also my thing. Especially at night, which it conveniently was.
Whoo-hoo.
Though it could just be the alcohol I had already consumed talking.
Humming a little tune I waited for my drink, tapping a little rhythm on the counter. Beside me was my helmet, the final piece of the Caedo of Moeror armor I was wearing. What? It's not weird. I'm a mercenary for Pete's sake (who's Pete?). Wearing armor is part of my thing. Chilling bars was also my thing. Especially at night, which it conveniently was.
Whoo-hoo.