*Drakkon sits with his feet up on the middle railing wearing only bracers, gauntlets, and greaves for armour. His cutlass and his silver stiletto are close enough to reach should there be trouble. He tilts his head back clearly enjoying the feel of the sun on it*
*Turns around the corner of the cabin, noticing Drakkon*
Bored, Drakkon? Nothing to stab?
*Lowers his head and looks at the High Elf*
You volunteerin' to take a stilettoin'? I'll thank ya afterward.
*Chuckles*
Nah. Enjoyin' the sun and relaxin'. Arm still feels a little off from losin' it to the damned bear that Orc Chieftain had with'em so takin' it easy.
*chuckles* if only I could survive one of your stabs. *grins* You deserve to relax... especially after what we had to face.
Thanks. Unlike yerself at my age I'm considered to be gettin' old. Feel the rigours of fightin' more now than I did back 5 or 10 years ago. Still the best knife man in this colony though.
*smirks*
Indeed. Your skills are appreciated in the town, regardless your age.
*Chuckles*
Considering I took out that Orc Warchief all by my lonesome even after losin' my arm I should hope there is some appreciatin'. Never would've thought that do gooders and even nobles would be happy to have this street rat killin' things around their town.
*Shakes his head while smirking*
This world work in fucked up ways.
The armoured high elf walks by, iron longsword in hand, "Bonjour gentlemen, enjoying ourselves?"
*Roland appears carrying what appears to be a sack of coal and ore. As he passes the cabin he nods to Drakkon*
"Glad to see you with both arms again. I hope this new one is as good as the last."
*Nods to Kyrem*
The weather is permittin' it. Same as the Orcs, Brood, and other shit.
*Looks over to Roland.*
Thanks. The arm and shoulder feel a bit tight like the muscles are crampin' at times, but, it's functional. You made it through the attacks in one piece?