He strolled trough the wreckage and debris of his new hometown. The look on his face would have stopped a pitbull in it's tracks and the look in his eyes might aswell be pair of daggers. He was a warrior, a soldier, a mercenary. He was no stranger to death, he had seen it again. It dogged him, hounded him like a unmercyfull beast. Even now, post retirement, he found himself in its presence. It was like a second nature to him, stepping over the charred remains of some poor sods body. He was as some would say; ”That one man you wanted by your shoulder, never infront of you.” 

His heavy leather boots brought him forward in confident, unapologetic strides that made the giant of a man even more menecing. People stepped aside as he moved, people wanted none of what he most likely brought; Death. His mercenary force was still active, out in Europe. His crest, the wolf, was a symbol that meant he had a talent for killing, that he possed combat experience and unforgiving fury in the face of the enemy. With his muscet slung across his shoulder and Bardiche hanging on his back with the swedish army coat billowing in the wind, he was exuding every bit of his mercenary self. He had tried to get away from violence, but even before this he had gotten in trouble. He fondly remembered decking two local officers. Only his ties with the local nobles kept him somewhat safe. 

His day had started well enough. He had eaten, he had trained, he had chatted with some locals. Then the town had been turned into a inferno and he found himself running for his weapons. Fleeing was not in the nature of this man. People said it was a dragon, he knew not of any dragons. He knew siege weapons however, and not even the greek fire some of the spanish Ongrels threw could do this kind of damage. He was strolling directly towards the palace for reasons unknown to himself. A nagging feeling told him to go there, and so he did.

On his way he got joined up by a man he knew as Louise Hernandez. Louis was a merchant who had once saved his life off the french coast. The two were friends ever since.

”Senor Ekengren. Someone has asked for you to be at the palace!”

”I figured” Johan said and nodded. He didn't let the fact that this was news to him show. Atleast he knew why he was walking there now. He sped up his pace so that the round, more then wellfed merchant found himself running to keep up. They made their journey there in silence. As he arrived he noted he was not the only one summoned. His eyes however, fell on the Pirate