[b]Robin Throckmorton
Inside the Boot Buckle, Deliar[/b]

He grinned as he received the information from Jymson and emptied the cup that had been bought for him by Lord Valfrunde's "kindness" in a single gulp. [b]"You needn't tell me that, mah friend! I learned how to treat women right the moment I learned about their boots and my balls!"[/b] He joked, remembering a single 'funny' occasion in the past. Despite his work as a soldier and his rather, let's face it, honourless way of living, he was a man of honour. He might enjoy women as much as wine, but that didn't make him a monster yet. Another plus point was that he could handle losing very well. He learned that by experience, sadly.

[b]"Anyhow, I be drinkin' one too many tonight, and I have a promotion to gain, so I'll be headin' off to my bed. 'Twas a pleasure as always, mah friends."[/b] He told the soldiers surrounding him, who gave him odd looks and fat winks. He could imagine what Jymson was thinking, but he didn't really care. He had had a rough today so far, drilling new recruits, and the rate at which he was drinking was a tad too high. He had to present tomorrow morning early to his superiors, and being drunk wouldn't help. 

He honestly had no intention of meeting up with this red-haired lass, but his stubborn curiosity did not fail to lead him to casually stroll past the house Jymson had described him.