"Hmph. I think I'm going the right way." Crowen said, checking his map once again. He was on his way to a small and quaint village, hopefully one where he could find some work. It wasn't very likely, in all honestly, but what other choice did he have? He had already combed the other town clean, at least this one had a chance of producing a pittance. Being a Mercenary was generally unpleasant. You saw death constantly, work was sporadic, and there was no guarantee you or your client, in some cases, would even live to see your paycheck, but it was the only thing Crowen could do. He was a born fighter, simple as that.

"That's life, I guess." Crowen mumbled to himself as he slipped the map back into his pocket. Once he looked back up though, he was greeted with a surprise. Though he could barely see it, there was a mass of people gathering. Judging by there armor, they were bandits, but this was much to organized for a regular attack by them. They wanted this village, and they were going to great lengths to get it. Luckily, every bandit was much more focused on what was in front of them then what was behind them, so Crow could sneak around them in the heat of battle, and kill off some of the stragglers who broke off slightly from the main west-flank group.

He ultimately decided to chop his way through to the front of the village. He dashed through the west flank of the army, and began slicing up bandits. He was covered in the blood of four men, and sporting a few small axe wounds, before he made it to the front. He normally never exerted himself this much, and decided that he needed a pick me up. He quickly made his way to a robed fellow, and introduced himself. "Hey, mind protecting me for a second?" Crowen asked, gasping for breath as he downed some of his vulenrary. "You guys need help? I can add in my blade, for a price." Crowen said as he rearmed himself and faced the bandit horde in front of them.