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With one final grunt of pain, the human musketeer finally sutured the two inch hole on his side shut. He had seen the healers and doctors do this a number of times before on both himself and other people. Now that he was doing it on himself, he found an appreciation to the medical arts and sciences. He knew that the practice needed steady hands, but proper knowledge was the key to save a life or loose one. He peered upon the now closed wound and grimaced at the slightly amateurish work. It was by no means a poor job, but the musketeer felt that he could have done a better job. He finally applied a few layers of fresh bandages to stop the bleeding and hopefully prevent the wound from getting dirty.

He heard the bard announce that the buckler had an ability to transform into a much more proper shield but was broken and the foul smelling breastplate he had carried was actually magical. Though the thought of wearing a breastplate, albeit a magical one, that came from a filthy Cyclopes caused the man to inwardly frown. He was ready to demean himself to such lows. Though the buckler caught his interest. Roy, coming from Briston as well as being a musketeer himself, was familiar with Dwarf technology. 

Briston's Dwarven allies and her brightest engineers worked hand in hand in improving the already amazing technology the Dwarves created. Most were weapons of war. Weapons that Roy is well versed with; in both regards of use and maintenance. Perhaps in the near future, he would give it a better look and see if he could figure out what was wrong with the thing. But now Roy shifted his focus onto his body and  stretched it slightly to check if the bandages would hinder his movement and mobility, and after a few more seconds of stretching he confirmed that they were no problem to his agility. He would then gather his under shirt and leather armor, that seemed to get the attention of a little scaly bard. 

Letting out a small amused snort of air, Roy began to don his shirt and armor once again. While he finished bucking the straps of his armor, he heard the little kobold ask the party. It seemed more aimed to him and another but she seemed to be expecting an answer from everyone present. [color=orange]"Quite the sharp eye on you, bard."[/color] Roy said with a hint of sarcasm and an unseen smirk behind the armor's face cover. [color=orange]"I am not an adventurer by trade, but I am familiar with them and have worked alongside them numerous times ever since the beginning of my career. Though I seek not fortunes and personal fame that most generic adventurers so damnably lust after. I only yearn to serve my homeland...as the sub-lieutennant of the Bristonian Royal Musketers, as a loyal servant to the King and Queen, and as a humble law abiding citizen."[/color] Roy smiled to himself as he felt the pride and sincerity in his own words. Curse or not, he still took pride being who he was.

Though the pride that swelled within him was also accompanied by a cocktail of worry and concern. The curse was still a pressing matter. He, along with the other afflicted, were ticking time bombs. [color=orange]" As to why a soldier like me is here on this cursed land...well, rumor has it that the ruins hold innumerable mysteries and strange magics. I seek a panacea that cures all ailments, debilitations, and curses; and perhaps Norn hides it within it's ruins."[/color] Roy takes a long pause as his eyes express a deep melancholy. They silently trail downwards until his gaze us upon his gloved hands he had unintentionally clasped together, as if to begging. [color=orange]"I...just hope that such a thing exists here in the world."[/color] He speaks once again, but his voice is barely above a hushed whisper.


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no rolls done this turn.
[hr]
Patched self up.
Gave some backstory and motivation.
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