Tycondrius casually eyed the unfamiliar fellow.
The somewhat-tall, lightly-tanned gentleman boasted long locks of blonde hair.
He wore a cloth wrap around his loins... a skirt of some kind?
Tattoos in careful, geometric patterns adorned his skin.
The style was... reminiscent of the Eastern States' tribes to the east.
Were his skin darker and his tattoos in Elven script, Tycon would have assumed he belonged in Imperia's Spider Crab tribe.
Without, the man's attire more closely resembled that of a common whore than a tribal warrior.
He wore no shirt, yet his muscles were... average?
Tycon considered the company he kept... a Gold-Rank Buccaneer turned Sky-Rank Dread Pirate, a house-sized muscle orc, and a Hexblade with forearms the size of a regular person's calves.
Then... there was a formerly bronze-skinned human who focused his weight-training on his upper body.
