Mercenary
Flies and dust. Greasy hair stuck to my face. My Longsword, Clouter, leans against the bar. My sax, Biter, hangs from my sword belt, my sweaty fingers drumming the hilt. Unfriendly eyes glance sly to where I'm seated. Alone. Thirsty. And in a rare ragged mood. Where the .... Is Hagan? My Partner these last few months. It's not safe to operate down here alone. Permio: desert realm, outside the Four Kingdoms and as nasty a nest of cutthroat and [...]