[b]Robin Throckmorton
Deliar, right outside The Buckle.[/b]

Robin laughed as the recruits dragged their older companion out of the establishment. Recruits usually were a dirty bunch of rats, expecting that their arms and armour would make the ladies open their legs for them. The knuckle-headed fools always found out that that wasn't the case one way or another. [b]"That'll teach that bastard Vincent for teaching recruits to be jerks! His ugly face now has somethin' else than his scar to worry about![/b] He mused to his comrades, and walked inside the tavern after giving the recruits a heartfelt load of insults and mockeries. As they entered, clearly recognisable by the olive green hoses of the pikemen of the 16th Legion, the same men as those who had just rushed out of the tavern, the newly started conversations fell silent again. 

Robin was still just a mere soldier, but he knew that he was inches away from his promotion to Tessarius. Their old one had been hit in the thigh by an arrow, and the wound had been infected. The man survived, but it remained to be seen if he would ever walk, nevermind march again. Even after 6 months of relaxation backhome, he still limped heavily. Next sortie he'd be a Tessarius for sure, so he had decided to improve on his usual behavior somewhat as to make sure he wouldn't miss out on the promotion. As a result, he dressed a tad nicer than usual, and the stern and serious look on his face he usually carried along with the uncharacteristical neat impression he left, made the people in the tavern terrified that their tavernkeeper's actions had gotten him on the bad side of the military.

[b]"Gimme some wine, you bastard."[/b] He said once he reached the bar, shattering the deafening silence. It didn't help that he was grinning along with his companions, all veterans of previous campaigns. As the silence ensued he looked around and snickered, before turning to the innkeeper again. [b]"Sometimes we wish the barbarians'd hit as hard as you, then we'd be rid of that bastard Vincent a long time ago!"[/b] He said with his heavy accent, accepting the cup of wine and emptying it in one big gulp, and releasing a statisfied sigh. [b]"You sent those recruits running faster than I've ever seen a barbarian run away from us, perhaps we need more men like you fighting on the frontlines! We'd have won the war ages ago!"[/b]