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[b][color=265828]Time:[/color][/b] One Week After Human Arrival
[b][color=265828]Location:[/color][/b] Somewhere in the forest
[b][color=265828]Interactions:[/color][/b] Timothy [@mole]
[b][color=265828]Mentions:[/color][/b] None
[b][color=265828]Equipment:[/color][/b] Longsword and Plate Armor[hr]
[b][color=265828]"Hmmmm."[/color][/b] 

One thing having come to blows with those of that race was that the dark elves always doubled-down on a victory. But none taught them what to do after a doubled attack.  The dark elves had indeed beat them to a pulp, but they hadn't killed them yet. They always assumed their enemies would rest to lick their wounds before striking back. And they loved that shit. There was a sense of importance, a mirage of heightened threats that those elves basked in, even if they may suffer defeat when struck back. They loved to be seen as fearsome.

Which was why Barrock had to strike now. 

[b][color=265828]"Good enough."[/color][/b] Barrock knocked on the wooden stump he sat on loudly. [b][color=265828]"We strike tomorrow. However..."[/color][/b]

He looked at the state of his group, there were little hopes they could strike effectively. Rowan looked like a breeze would break him in two. Aurora might be able to if she pulled it together, but he couldn't rely on that. And Timothy wouldn't join, he'd assume for a good reason.

[b][color=265828]"Join at will, but we will need help."[/color][/b] Barrock declared. [b][color=265828]"I will meet him early morning, with much money."[/color][/b]

There goes his savings. But if he was going to get Vasco back, only he would do. His reputation was as elusive as his presence on this mortal plane. And for how immoral the path this guy walked, he had standards. Strict standards. 

Barrock picked up the cup of firefae and downed it in two gulp. Could've done it with one, but he should learn to savor the goodness in life.