[center][h2][b][color=crimson]Xandar Markov[/color][/b][/h2][/center]

[center][h3][b][color=crimson]Winged Boar in Aren, Askavi[/color][/b][/h3][/center]

The trip through Aren, Askavi was lonely and tiring to say the least, as being on the run from the law constantly always made you look over your shoulder. Years ago he wouldn't be so worried, a bold and confident man with many allies by his side, now reduced to being a rogue who could have a sword pulled on him if he walked into the wrong place at the wrong time. These days he wasn't as active in his attempts to fight the power, often keeping to himself and doing what he could to survive. Most of the time this was stealing, either discreetly or by force, to get what he needed day to day. His assets that he had on him were all but run out, and the rest were taken by the Queen herself. Greedy bitch. His name was torn apart as a traitor, and while some still thought highly of him, many were now under the thumb of the twisted Queens. Whether they believed it or not, if Xandar was an enemy of the Queen, he was the enemy of his own people. Time was running out, and he was running very low on options. The reason he was walking through these parts was to find the name of the person by the name of Randalvar. His friend Handovar, who was a close ally for years, had told him of his father and the Winged Boar before his death. Randalvar was a Warlord who owned the place, and while he was hear mostly to spread the news of Handovar, hopefully he could help him with his movement. Or at the very least, find him a decent healer. A few days back he had attempted to assassinate one of the twisted Queens. This had proven unsuccessful, clearly being outnumbered, and he had managed to get out of their alive and not under capture. Not without a fight, and he did manage to damage or kill people within her inner circle. However, the injuries he sustained were serious enough that he could not go about his business as usual. He needed help, as much as he hated the idea. 

As the storm as about to pour from the heavens, Xandar stepped through the entrance of the Winged Boar. A terrible thunder shook as he stepped in, some rain already pouring outside as his figure was lit up by the lightning. Standing at 6'7" and weighing 247 pounds of intense muscle, it was clear that he was an Eyrien warrior by that fact alone. However, Xandar wore a black cloak that covered most of his large frame, his hood covering the majority of his face in it's shadow. When the lightning flashed, his dark gold skin on his face was revealed for a split second. His much brighter gold eyes stared out from behind his hood, slowly scanning the room around him. There were two individuals in his immediate vicinity, both possessing some aura of power to them. A tiger-eyed warlord prince was holed up in the corner with a mug, and it was clear that this was not the man who he was looking for. That man only got so much as a glare from Xandar before his eyes turned to the older man behind the counter. The purple dusk warlord, this was the man he would be looking for, and he could only assume this was Randalvar. Xandar took a seat on the bar stool in front of the Warlord, making eye contact. There was no doubt in his mind that he had sensed him and who he was, especially when he pulled back his hood just enough to reveal his face to Randalvar.

[color=crimson]"I assume you're the owner of this bar, Lord Randalvar."[/color] he said in a hushed tone, sighing softly. [color=crimson]"I'm not here to start trouble as many have done before I can imagine. I come bearing news that I wish I did not have to give, but you deserve the truth. Your son, Handovar, was a close ally of mine and I considered him a brother on the battlefield. However, fate was not so kind to that man, and he died for the cause that he believed in, joining my band. I mourned his loss and avenged him by my own hand, but I try my hardest to try and continue what your son had fought for. Sadly I have been unsuccessful as of late, barely managing staying alive myself as all my men have all but died, left, or been captured. I come here to tell you that your son died an honorable man in glorious combat, and that his will lives on within me."[/color] Xandar said, taking a moment of silence as he looked up at the ceiling of the bar. He would give anything to have a friend in this world like Handovar, but Xandar's fate was almost just as cruel, living in this empty world where everybody seemed to be an enemy. Xandar's hands were folded on the counter, and there was a faint glint of sapphire coming from his right ring finger. He let the father take his time to process the information before he spoke again. 

[color=crimson]"The other reason why I was here to ask you for some information, and I would not be so willing to ask for help if the situation did not call for it. I have some... injuries. Something worse than I can handle on my own. Before I can go on without my agenda, I need to make sure I don't keel over days from now from an untreated injury. You wouldn't know of anybody that could help, would you?"[/color] Xandar said, his voice almost a whisper as even he didn't want to hear himself speak these words. He absolutely hated the notion of relying on others to be alright, but at this point there was no other choice. His pride would get him killed one of thee days, and he needed to stay humble long enough to be on his way. [color=crimson]"Let's just say my latest escapade did not go exactly as planned."[/color]

A few moments later, a woman quite literally armed to the teeth had entered the tavern. To be fair, Xandar did carry three blades, armor, and a bow and arrow. Most of this was concealed by the cloak however, the bow and long swords strapped across his large back, his large sword in the scabbard on his left hip and the quiver hanging from his right hip. However, it was very clear that this woman wanted to be seen armed and dangerous with a sword, shield, and bow. There were markings on her face, and she seemed to walk with a confidence while scanning the room. Xandar gave almost a chuckle, but simply kept to himself as he only looked for a split second before turning his head back to face the bar. The woman had sat near him however, and made it clear that she wanted some alcohol. As one did. He ignored any glance she may or may not have gave him, hearing the sound of the bow clack against the wood as she set it down. If this was one of the Queen's people come to pay him a visit he would lose it, although he very much doubted this was the case. Some random person passing by he imagined. The warlord prince in the corner hadn't spoken a word yet either, and it seemed almost too peaceful to be a normal day. Xandar had a feeling this peace wouldn't be kept long, as the storm would attract more and more business as people looked for shelter and a drink. 

Xandar covered his face with his hands, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. The barkeep at least hadn't seemed to garnish any hate towards him for what happened to Handovar, but it was a shot in the dark whether the man would be helpful to Xandar or not. These days were getting worse by the minute, and he was half tempted to ask for an ale of his own.