[center][h3]The Adventurer[/h3][/center]
[center]Wordiness: 1,059 / Experience: 2/10 / Location: Barge [/center]
[hr]

A man was sitting in a saloon, seething. It had been DAYS since he had arrived in this strange, no, strangest land and still no sign of an escape. His greatest goal was to slay the demon lord. It had almost happened. He was so, so close. His rage filled him until he  had no choice but to slam his blade into the table, flicking a coin to the bartender as he did. He calmed down, returning to the stoic, unyielding man he was, or tried to be. He downed the rest of his ale and stepped outside to deal with the slight affect it gave him, which while not drunkenness, made his vision slightly blurry. Not a good idea when in a place such as the Barge, bar fights could break out at any moment, and it was best to stay awares. 

A wander through the city could do himself some good, thought The Adventurer, recovering from his episode. He strolled into a shop and nitpicked over a dagger, but really he was looking at a weapon in the back, a long, two handed weapon that looked slightly rusted with age and his mind ached with familiarity. The weapon, many coins away from his possession, was a barely shining Zweihander. There was no way he could have taken it. Four hired thugs were posted every time he watched. Only one other thing interested him, a decently sized shield, only wood and steel studs and a thin strip of metal to make up for its appearance. Perhaps it was only because his defensive capabilities were not exactly on par at the time. 

He wasn't really paying attention to the prices, and turned to face the owner of the store "I'll buy the shield, 95 coin." he snapped at the almost goblin-like bandit manning the shop. There. That had to be more than fair. "Fu-ha-huck off, bastard." The bandit replied in a vague, almost Cockney dialect, drawing his knife and pointing with it to a piece of paper that said "150 coins". The Adventurer remained calm, his facial expression never changing, before flipping the vendor the bird and returning the eviscerating words. "Have a nice life, you over-selling fuckhead. I hope you stay in this place." Now, this was rather strange, as he preferred to keep his mouth shut and let his blade do the talking.

As he was leaving, he flicked back his head and shifted sideways, giving a last look that almost begged to be wiped off of his face. It worked, and the fire in the shopkeep's eyes grew hotter until, shook to the bone by this stranger's impertinence and disrespect, took out a Hand Crossbow and The Adventurer barely had time to dodge downward as the mechanism slammed back and released a bolt, no hint of descent in it's rather short path to the target. "Whoa, let's not get violent, but I have one of those myself." he said with a smirk, drawing his own, slightly more rickety armament and loading it as fast as one can during the heat of a battle. His hand on the trigger, he glared at the man. "If you act once more in such a violent manner, I'll be forced to attack." he said, this thought somehow filling his head with glee instead of apprehension. 

"Devilkin! Get in here....we'll teach him a lesson." the Shopkeep grinned, bringing a large man to the front, a stranger wearing the mask of a demon. The large man gave a cocky grin and hefted a metal club. "Well, now this is rather unfair. If I can somehow beat both you, may I take that Zwei?” The Adventurer asked, chuckling to himself slowly. The Shopkeep had his own little laugh with his bruiser, confident they would win. “Not beat, but kill then. Cuz’ the only way you’re getting your hands on something that expensive         
is over OUR dead bodies." The Adventurer meant to grumble, but for some reason, it came out as a bloodthirsty growl. He unsheathed his sword and charged into the glass counter holding the shield, breaking it, and equipping the new item. "How'd you like that? Want to actually try now?" he teased, dashing backwards and out of range before turning back to face his opponents. 

The man in the devil mask charged through the remainder of the shattered counter, smashing a path with his club. "Die. Die! I will squash you like a fly!" He continued, bringing down a strike The Adventurer struggled to block, his feet breaking through the floor from the force of the blow. The Adventurer managed to deflect the blow and the club landed beside him on the floor, letting him jump up and slash the bigger man across the face, breaking off half of his mask. His opponent roared with fury, and his anger made him sloppy. The Adventurer stepped inside his next slash, cutting him on the arm. It wasn't a deep slash, but the blood awakened something within him. His vision got blurry, and eventually, a bright white light took over all his senses.

When he woke up, the big man's broken body laid behind him, and blood was all over the Adventurer's clothes. The shopkeep whimpered and he noticed that his blade was against the man's throat. The battle was over, and he stomped the man's face into the floorboards as he passed the shocked guards and took his prize. As soon as he stepped outside, exhaustion overcame him and he and his sword fell to the floor. His wounds were great, and they had all returned to him as the adrenaline wore off and a red light enveloped him, (A sign of Galeem's influence, if anyone wants to play off of that. It's usually blue.) and set him down some distance away, back outside to land behind a confrontation between a group of people. His health was slightly restored to him, enough so that he could open his eyes and move. "Agh. What the fuck happened? Why is there blood on me? I've not....This is a Zweihander! I should return this to the....Wait, how did I get this in my possession anyway?" During this self-discussion, he saw that someone was being held captive by a pig faced man. In no condition to fight, he clambered up onto the roof and watched from above.