It was a modern, multicultural crowd, a colorful mix of soldiers and mercenaries from across the continent. A regal Forcen Knight in silvered chain sat beside a Nemayan Pistolier with a bear pelt draped over his shoulders. An elf from the Ebon Mask tribe crouched motionless on a high branch of a nearby tree, while a grey-bearded dwarf sat on its roots, smoking a long pipe.
There was an orc deftly weaving through the lines of people. He was selling fried crickets, his supplies dwindling quickly.
Tycondrius considered supporting that fellow's business... but he balked at the price.
The nearby mercenaries began to shuffle about, moving out of the way of a large gentleman with the giant bloodline-- fire giant, to be more precise.
He had long red hair, tied back according to military regulations. His clean-cut beard was a bit lengthy but... forgivable.
The man's height, however, Tycon found bothersome.
