Character: Axol, The Unworthy
Status: Hunger unsated. Thirst for ale unquenched.

Axol raised a brow at the quiet girl's response, interrupting his thoughts. He took note of the emptiness in her eyes and the felt weight in her words in spite of her merely whispering. After a few moments of contemplation, Axol concluded that perhaps she does not drink, and hence, does not grasp the concept of happiness. He only shook his head in pity before responding, [color=0072bc]"I pray the gods don't frown upon your sorrows, young lady. We all carry it in our hearts. Not me, though."[/color] It may have come accross as an insult, but the words were from his heart. Sarcasm is not a part of the swellsword's arsenal. Nor is socializing, unfortunately.

The young lord spoke and sang the singsongy tune of lord-talk, something that usually brings sleepiness into his bones, but the man gave promise of food- and Axol hungers. There was also mention of training, and the visible discomfort of the guards at whatever they murmured about, which excited him even more. No mention of ale, though... Maybe they'll be offered wine? [color=0072bc][i]"I shouldn't drink around where the quiet one can see, though. Envy is a sin, after all."[/i][/color] He thought to himself. Strangely, he noticed the air around him get colder when the alchohol-hating lady stepped away from him. Did the warmth he feel come from her? He did not know. Axol can only conclude that perhaps she is not interested in gold, which gave him some relief...

As they walked into the barracks, the archer proceeded to claim a bed of his own. Axol did not like this, giving him an annoyed glance; for he took the room the sellsword eyed first. However, Axol deems himself more mature than he used to be, and decided that he will not physically assault the archer for now. After accidentally walking into other people's rooms, he eventually found a vacant one to claim. He unsheathed the greatsword strapped onto his back and letting it fall to the ground with a loud thud that shook the whole room. [color=0072bc]"I keep forgetting how heavy this thing is."[/color] He chuckles to himself as he took off his armor. The thought of questioning the other travellers on how they'll split the share suddenly came to mind, and wondered if the rest of them even cared about gold. 

A question for later... Now, he must search for the food that was promised.

Axol took his time walking through the halls looking for the dining area, the dim light from the torches igniting memories that he did not wish to think about. Thinking is not Axol's profession. Fighting is much more fun when he can break his enemies' bones, less so when the enemy is just voices from a distant past. After roaming around and cursing at one guard for ignoring him, he happens upon the archer's room. He stands there for a moment, just looking directly into his eyes...

[color=0072bc]"Did you get your food yet?"[/color] He asks, [color=0072bc]"I haven't gotten mine. The guards are deaf, won't tell me where we're supposed to eat."[/color] He shakes his head in genuine frustration, not grasping the concept of being ignored. [color=0072bc]"What foolish lord employs deafs for guards?"[/color] He walks in, uninvited, though not really asking for an invitation. [color=0072bc]"But then again, losing one sense does heighten the others... I know of a blind beggar who caught every rock I threw at him. Damn, I forgot his name..."[/color] He then just sits there on the floor, unwelcome and completely lost in his own thoughts, his hunger momentarily forgotten as he struggles with recalling the name of some random beggar.