[i]"Our family has been in the military for generations David. Never has any of our line decided to deny that heritage. If you choose to do this, you must know that we will cast you out of our family. Is this goal of yours truly worth throwing away your bloodline?"[/i]

David blankly stared down at his cup on the taverns counter. It was nearly full of some alcoholic drink that David never bothered to actually order, but got from the bartender after he asked for a drink. Staring into it, the trained soldier could almost see his past playing out before him once more. He could even hear the cries of combat roaring in his ears, parts of his time fighting in bar-

David blinked, realizing he never fought in a bar before. He then looked around to notice that the noise he was hearing wasn't in his mind, but from the brawl happening around him. With an annoyed glare, he grabbed tightly unto his drink and brought it up to his mouth. Before he could even drink it though, a chair leg smacked into his hand and knocked the cup down. Which, only annoyed David more. So with a deep breath, he merely closed his eyes and tried to keep calm. He knew everyone was either drunk, or an idiot unable to control themselves. They were at no fault for breaking out into a childish fight once in a while.

Then someone swung a wooden stool down upon the back of his skull. Suddenly, the world seemed to stop for David as the brief spark of pain rushed down from his head to the rest of his form. The person who struck him went on to attack another patron, but the damage was already done. All David did after that was slowly stand up, his back to the chaos behind him. "Bartender, I'm going to need another drink." He spoke in his usual deep tone, and reached into his white shirts pocket to drop some coins on the counter. Oddly enough, one could count those coins and determine that they were the exact price one would pay for a fine of getting into a bar fight.

David turned towards the violence going on, and stared darkly at the scene before him. He merely saw unskilled children at work, striking at each other as clumsily as possible to try and knock each other out. Nothing he couldn't take care of in a few seconds. Reaching out his hand, the soldier smirked as a wooden sword appeared within his grasp. No flashy entrance, no lights, just a practical ability at work. Then, he went to work on ending the fight. Which may or may not have resulted in him knocking out a good portion of the drunks before they all decided to cut their losses and run off.

After this though, David would let go of the wooden sword and sit back down on his stool. As the blade disappeared, the bartender placed another cup before David. With the same unknown drink the soldier hadn't tasted yet. With a simple thank you to the bartender, David resumed his act of staring into the glass. Trying to figure out at what point he went from someone in the army...to a simple mercenary willing to sell his skill for money.