[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=DC143C]Fyror Kildragon[/color][/i][/b][/h1] [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/c08e11f7-3cfd-47ba-8929-88361f1112d2.gif[/img][/center][center][I][h3][color=DC143C]It isn't the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it's the pebble in your shoe. [/color][/h3][/I][color=DC143C]- [I]Dave Eggers[/I][/color][/center] [hr][hr][center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] La Canela Ship (Main Deck) [b][color=DC143C]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [/center][hr] Fyror strode across the deck over to the assembling group of people. His gaze picked out Hazel amongst the group, already chatting away with that German fellow. He glanced over at the other ship, a comparably smaller vessel, as a couple of people prepared to board before his gaze gravitated over to Miss Fontaine. He was glad to see that she was well, and it would appear that she had even been gifted a new weapon, courtesy of Captain Montoya he presumed. As he came to a stop beside her, he looked down at her with a small smile. He then glanced around at the others as various conversations were taking place. He remained politely quiet as his attention turned to the newcomers specifically. One had already boarded and another was making his way over in a much more flamboyant fashion. However, the man's exuberant entrance was short-lived as he promptly faceplanted onto the deck with the sickening sound of bones breaking. A grimace crossed Fyror's features a few seconds before he rushed forward to help the man. He came to an abrupt halt as the man suddenly sprung up onto his feet again. He had to give the man props for taking a broken nose like a champ. He eyed him as a niggling sensation in the back of his head said that the man seemed oddly familiar.