"Too good for me, mate," the stranger said. "Virtue and honour in human form.”
Barracker gave a grunt of approval, he felt the same when it came to Evelyne.
“Stiff as a plank of wood…"
Barracker shared a chuckle with the man. It was a funny way to describe someone you fawned over.
"...But that's part of her charm. Underneath that she's steadfast, fierce, brave..."
Remarkably similar to Evelyne, he thought. "She must be quite the woman,” the paladin commented.
"And christ; she's hotter than a furnace in a volcano," the stranger blurted out loudly. "Slap-bang in Hell in the middle of a heatwave."
Barracker could not remove his smile from his face. He felt the same and also found it quite funny.
"Bloody gorgeous." He shook his head, disappointedly and with a smile. "Fuck - look at us two, eh... hopeless. Give me Aurok the Maneater and a sword - let a simple frontliner do his job," he joked.
The stranger’s words hit home quite deep, Barracker would not have thought he would be sharing such a moment with a stranger, never mind one that would feel the same thing like unworthiness and hopelessness.
"Speaking of swords: That's a beauty right there.”
Barracker felt this was a welcome change of topic.
"Claymore, right. I'd guess about ten pounds, but that looks heavier than most."
“Correct.” Barracker nodded proudly, “While the half orc race are known for great blacksmiths, the mindless beasts of the wildlands, mountains and swamps tend to craft their weapons from low quality steel or just iron ingots. Some will even hammer a piece of metal flat, and just sharpen it. Picture my surprise when I took this finely crafted orichalcum claymore from the corpse of an orc captain. It would have had to have been orcish made, as it was relative to the size and strength of the beast. Bigger than anything you can buy in the dwarven or the half orc domains.”
"You've gotta be packing some kinda muscle to wield that one-handed while rockin a tower shield."
“One of the few perks of being a vampire.” Barracker trailed off. Also the cursed price does outweigh the benefits.
When the stranger offered his own sword to show off, Barracker didn’t hesitate to have a look. “Steel-banded into the leather, nice.” As the paladin drew the katana a third of the way, he blurted, “what in Hades name…” Barracker trailed off, simply staring at the black steel blade, rubbing his fingers across the exposed flat of the blade. He could not quite tell where this was made. Elvish? No it couldn’t be. “That's a fine piece of craftsmanship,” he complimented as he handed it back. “That is rarer than any sword I have seen.” The paladin was more than intrigued, and was about to ask about where the sword came from, but was interrupted.
"Where are my manners… We haven't even been introduced properly. Zell Brooks."
Zell offered a hand to shake and Barracker obliged, clasping forearms in a warriors’ greeting.
“Barracker Kassel, of…”
"...Of Second Chance."
They both spoke at the same time, prompting Barracker to draw back in surprise. Barracker felt good to bond but would have preferred to never see the man's face again. As was the reason in his mind to open up about his feelings about Evelyne. Barracker made a “hmph” with half a chuckle mixed in.
“I have met with the leader, James. I did not know that I would have been meeting another companion until arriving at ‘The Mended Drum’. What brings you around these parts?” he inquired but suddenly remembered the insane piece of information that filled his mind with unanswered questions. “Wait, James said he was not from this world. How is this even possible?”