[color=ed1c24][/color][color=ed1c24][/color][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjE1OC5lMjBkMGQuUTNWc2JDQkdZWEp5YVc5dS4w/perfecto-calligraphy-personal-use.regular.webp[/img]
Location: Eye of the Beholder Tavern
Time: Who knows at this point
[@princeAlexus][@Echotech71]
The purple mercenary listened to his drinking partner before returning a joyous chuckle:

[color=ed1c24]"You truly are a man of the sword, rare it is for nobles to view our kind as anymore than expandable, a blade to be discarded noting more. 
I, however, welcome the warning, doubt I'd need it, Many have tried their hands at me yet here I remain, unscarred and unvanquished." [/color]

Deep down Arthur could not help but feel creeping embarrassment as his performance, this display of false arrogance brought back poor memories of his past life, of the fateful encounter with [i]it[/i], there had been a men like that too who thought his armor proof against all the world's malice. How he screamed as the man was torn limb to limb by that which gifted him second life. 

For lord Coswain the wanderer's still heart rang with a pang of regret at the wastefulness of it all. At such a fine men, cautious and humble, determined of will yet strong of body but reduced to a mere lapdog to an uncaring crown. Beings like them should walk their own paths free from obligations and commands. 

The two drank silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts before a new arrival was felt at the counter. Turning over Farrion noticed a beautiful girl fair of face and plump of flesh, her head covered with fiery red hair which flowed down her shoulders in great cascades sitting alone.
 
A working girl, an beauty at that, or [i]so he thought[/i] before approaching. 
The purple swordsmen tossed a coin to the barmaid:
[color=ed1c24]"Pint of ale for the lady, the good stuff."[/color] before leaning in close to her with a Whisper:[color=ed1c24] "Come dear, name your price." 
[/color]