[color=E0D6C0] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wFqApY1.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fXzi00H.gif[/img][hr][h1][b][color=30A4D9]Bastion[/color][/b][/h1][/center]

[center][color=30A4D9][b]Race:[/b][/color] Warforged
[color=30A4D9][b]Class:[/b][/color] Guardian
[color=30A4D9][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Kraken's Wake
[color=30A4D9][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] Phia [@princess], Arya [@potter], Corin [@Lava Alckon], Minerva [@FunnyGuy]
[color=30A4D9][b]Equipment:[/b][/color]  
[hider=equipment][color=F9D972]☼[/color] Tower Shield  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Greatsword made of Glacium (A material as hard as steel, yet formed from eternally frozen ice.)
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Titan Chain – A reinforced tow chain housed in his left palm, functioning as a powerful grappling hook.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Aged Leather Satchel   
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Worn but cherished scarf
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Maintenance Kit .
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Heavy-duty rations (for companions, not himself).  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] A delicate glass figurine of a bird—an old keepsake.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] A locked, timeworn journal—contents unknown.  [/hider]
[color=30A4D9][b]Attire:[/b][/color]  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Etched and weathered ivory metal plating with bronze accents.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Fitted harness for carrying supplies.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Worn scarf 
[color=30A4D9][b]Gold Balance:[/b][/color] 33 gold
[color=30A4D9][b]Injuries:[/b][/color]  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Left shoulder was injured in the battle and is still leaking fluid.  
 [/center][hr]

Bastion was not used to the noises of taverns.

Of course battlefields were loud too, but in a very different kind of way. Even with the chaos all around him in combat, Bastion had never felt overwhelmed by the noise. There, he had his orders… his mission, and all he had to do was focus on getting things done. But this…this was [i]a lot[/i] for him to process, and unfortunately it was all at once.

The noise of the Kraken’s Wake was a tangled web of sounds of differing volumes, full of voices over voices, wooden tables struck by mugs, the squeaking screech of chairs sliding across the uneven wooden floor, and layers of laughter that spiked and dipped without warning. All of this and more was jam packed in one relatively small building… Much smaller than the corridors and fields of battle he had always felt at home in. So much in such a small place made the word [i]overwhelming[/i] quite the understatement. 

The Warforged stood where Minerva had pulled him, just to the side of the table she now sat, his shoulders angled awkwardly without him even realizing. He was half pointed toward her and half toward the bar where his gaze kept drifting. 

Phia’s antlers made it easy for him to spot her, and thankfully Arya had stuck close by to the kind girl making it easy for him to keep track of the two. He had internally declared his mission to protect them all, and that had started with those two girls… but now that he was separated from them, there was the subconscious feeling that he was not performing his duties. He pondered the feeling and its accuracy, trying to take into account that his self-assigned oath was technically for the group as a whole, but the lingering phantom of his former failure made him uneasy. 

A jolt of laughter echoed too loudly from behind him, pulling his attention and his gaze without him even meaning for it to. Thankfully, it seemed as though there were currently no [i]real[/i] threats; though an argument could be made that each and every person in the room, pirate or not, seemed like a threat in their own right. As he turned back, his eyes once again found Minerva, who was pulling out a chair for him and doing something rather odd with her eyebrows. She had referred to him as her second-in-command. He too, like Corin, questioned the legitimacy of her claim, though really he was just confused. Not just by her, but by everything that had been transpiring. When he woke up from his…what was he even meant to call it…[i]extended period of nonfunction?[/i]…When he finally awoke and realized the war had ended, there had been a growing fear in him that he would have no purpose, that his existence may prove to be obsolete. He never expected things to be so [i]eventful[/i].  

Out of force of habit more than anything else, Bastion turned away from Minerva and back to the girls at the bar. Just to make sure they were safe. Then, he looked towards the strange woman once more, knelt down to be bit closer to her eye level, cocked his head in a way reminiscent to a confused dog, and finally spoke. His voice was louder than intended and interrupted any conversation that had still been going on within the group. It was not something done out of rudeness, rather just a case where Bastion’s general state of overwhelmed confusion caused him to barely even process that other’s may be speaking at all. 

[color=30A4D9]“Do you have a mission for me, Ms. Minerva?”[/color] He asked genuinely, his optics flaring with curiosity as he moved to take a seat in the chair she had so graciously pulled out for him. A chair that creaked and groaned the very moment that his weight came down upon it. It held his Warforged frame, but only for a second or two, before the wooden piece of furniture splintered and collapsed from underneath him. Bastion plummeted to the ground, the impact of his metal bottom crashing down against the tavern floor basically rattling the entire tavern and drawing the eyes of everyone within. 

[color=30A4D9]“Oh…”[/color] He said simply, staring up at Minerva. 
[/color]