11-10-2016, 04:19 PM
"Practically everythin' be a job nowadays, but me job be pretty hefty. Demolitions be a better word for it. I clear out places and such of everythin' sitting in a space so folk can be building or such anew. Real simple but it be takin' a roight smart mind to know the prime spots and the proper bits for the chems to 'splode things. I love it."
Turrent's grin is wide as can be as he speaks, the flask still held high as if he's presenting it to the world. Its contents are barely visible past the scorch marks and soot but it seems to be a silver-ish powder.
"Got yer self a job o' sorts?"
Turrent's grin is wide as can be as he speaks, the flask still held high as if he's presenting it to the world. Its contents are barely visible past the scorch marks and soot but it seems to be a silver-ish powder.
"Got yer self a job o' sorts?"
A Soot-coated and oddly thin human wearing a strange tattered cloak, torn pants, and a variety of pouches and containers. His pony-tail appears to be singed and he smells of blast powder and a hint of honey.
(OOG - Christian Kimmerer - Medical Marshal)
(OOG - Christian Kimmerer - Medical Marshal)