puddingpunter
Sedriso Ulveri, blade for hire. One of the best, in fact. With all manner of spells, enchantments, and fighting skill, plus a few other tricks, he's a fighter of many trades, and good at what he does. If not the best. And he can be yours.
For the right price, of course.
That was the sort of thing he'd always told people looking for a mercenary to do their dirty work, or to protect them during their travels.
It isn't boasting if you can actually deliver.
He said that sometimes, too.
In a place unfriendly to Drow--most civilized places were, in fact--it was important to have the best credentials...and something to hide your face with.
Sedriso Ulveri, battlemage mercenary of the Drow, was sipping spiced wine in a hot, stuffy corner of the inn at which he was presently staying, after having completed a job. He intended to give himself a few days to relax before seeking further work, but he found it difficult in his present atmosphere. He was likely the only Drow in this gods-forsaken town, and so he refrained from removing his chitin armor and mask to avoid disrupting the general populace with his presence, and was sipping his wine from underneath the red cloth that formed the masked portion of his helm. So far, it seemed, no one paid him much mind.
He hoped that it would stay that way. He'd just done quite a bit of fighting, and wasn't interested in being the cause of another at the moment.
For the right price, of course.
That was the sort of thing he'd always told people looking for a mercenary to do their dirty work, or to protect them during their travels.
It isn't boasting if you can actually deliver.
He said that sometimes, too.
In a place unfriendly to Drow--most civilized places were, in fact--it was important to have the best credentials...and something to hide your face with.
Sedriso Ulveri, battlemage mercenary of the Drow, was sipping spiced wine in a hot, stuffy corner of the inn at which he was presently staying, after having completed a job. He intended to give himself a few days to relax before seeking further work, but he found it difficult in his present atmosphere. He was likely the only Drow in this gods-forsaken town, and so he refrained from removing his chitin armor and mask to avoid disrupting the general populace with his presence, and was sipping his wine from underneath the red cloth that formed the masked portion of his helm. So far, it seemed, no one paid him much mind.
He hoped that it would stay that way. He'd just done quite a bit of fighting, and wasn't interested in being the cause of another at the moment.
