[center][color=lime][h1]Eadric Sophus[/h1][/color][/center]
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[center][color=lime][h2]Before Departure[/h2][/color][/center]
As Eadric Sophus threw back his second tankard of ale in as many hours, he came to a realization. He was bored. While some spent their whole lives avoiding danger, Eadric spent his actively seeking it out. Not for fame or riches, but for the thrill he got when he was being chased by a pack of direwolves or crossing swords with highwaymen. He was a bastard, forsaken by the house of Iterus and forced into a life of constant danger. Eadric couldn’t help but feel extremely glad his father had visited a brothel nineteen years ago, had he been trueborn, he’d likely never have stepped foot outside of the walls. Eadric didn’t understand how the nobles spent their whole lives in courts, seeking power. Eadric had no qualms about living pay-to-pay guarding trade caravans, so long as he had fun doing it. 

All this reflecting aside, Eadric had a problem. He was bored, out of coin, and there were no caravans leaving soon. He drunkenly announced these problems to the bartender, who told him of an expedition outside the walls, to reclaim tower mechanisms. Eadric wasted no time volunteering, heart alight with excitement.
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[center][color=lime][h2]After[/h2][/color][/center]
Eadric double-checked his armor. Reckless he may be, idiot he was not. He knew that his skills and experience alone wouldn’t suffice here. All his gear would need to be in pristine condition if he were to survive this. He took out his sword, absentmindedly polishing it as he eyed his companions. 

A warrior, clad in full dragonscale armor. The grey coloring made the scales look almost like steel. He self-consciously eyed his own emerald-color dragonscales, which covered only his torso, shins, and forearms. The warrior also had a great-axe that Eadric doubted he could even swing without collapsing under its weight, and a bastard sword, like his own. 

Maria Vicariis, of the noble house Vicariis. Eadric was glad the woman had not yet noticed him, for she would no doubt recognize him. Erebus Iterus’s bastard was well-known among nobles. It was not his wish to be mocked tonight, not when he had such a promising adventure ahead. He paid her no more attention, he already knew of Maria.

As he eyed the others, he began to observe less and less. He knew of de Fabrica, the blacksmith with the special polishing substance, but the rest were unfamiliar to him. He glanced over them casually until his eyes fell upon another woman. Her heterochromia led her to believe she was a slave. He wasn’t exactly sure if there were people with different-colored eyes who weren’t slaves. Something about her intrigued him, though he wasn’t exactly sure what that was. He walked towards her and sheathed his sword on his back. He extended a hand and spoke. 

[color=lime]”Eadric Sophus, adventurer.”[/color] He smiled crookedly. [color=lime]”How do you do?”[/color]