[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  Seadragon Keep
[color=30A4D9][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] Trin
[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] 48 gold
[color=30A4D9][b]Injuries:[/b][/color]  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Left shoulder was injured in the battle and is still leaking fluid.  
 [/center][hr]

The small, miserable, pathetic goblin’s body came rolling too close to the dark water below, and…well… Bastion moved.

One heavy foot came down between Trin and the drop, the dock groaning beneath the sudden weight of the Warforged. Trin stopped short of him in a tangle of limbs, rope, rags, and panic.

Bastion looked down and for a long second, he said nothing.

The goblin was soaked through and filthy, shaking so hard that the torn cloth hanging from him trembled like the rest of him. His wide eyes darted from face to face, searching for danger and finding it everywhere. His hands clutched at his ruined shirt, trying to drag the fabric closed over the pale blue-white handprint glowing beneath.

Bastion saw it, and with a dog-like curious tilt of the head, he pondered what it could be. 

The mark pulsed weakly through the Goblin’s grime and tears, the print too large to belong to the goblin himself. A hand pressed into him from collarbone to ribs, almost as though he had been branded with it.

Bastion’s jaw shifted once. He knew very little about fear as flesh understood it. His body did not tremble, his breath did not catch, his heart did not race…but yet, in his way, he knew what it felt like to be afraid.

Slowly, Bastion lowered himself into a crouch. The dock creaked again, boards screaming under the rearrangement of his weight. When he spoke, his tone was calm.

[color=#8B9EB7]“Do not worry, little green man.”[/color]

His voice was full of what comfort a Warforged could possibly muster. 

[color=#8B9EB7]“We will not harm you.”[/color]

Bastion’s hand lowered toward Trin, palm open and peaceful as he offered it to the little creature. 

[color=#8B9EB7]“You are far too small and weak to be a threat to my friends, so you are safe with me. Otherwise I would have pulverized your bones already.”[/color] The construct’s mouth twisted into a warforged’s version of a smile. 
[/color]