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    1. MicahTheRogue 11 yrs ago

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Adrian kept his pace on his march. After his first incident, Adrian's stomach started to agree more with him. It was honestly amazing how fast he was able to shake off most of the effects of the drink. For added benefit, Adrian slapped his own face a couple of times, trying to further raise his awareness. As Adrian started their slope ascension to the summit of the mountain, He heard the crunch of snow, from what sounded like a large creature. Adrian instantly jerked his head to the right, and could see the side face of a man, crumpled on the ground, and wrapped in a cloak. Adrian ducked behind a tree, and looked back at his group. He pointed towards the area, with his index finger. By the looks of it, from this area, the man looked like one of the savages that called the frozen wasteland better known as the North home. Adrian traced his hand along his hip, til he grabbed the hilt of his dagger. The man seemed to be breathing heavily, and it was obvious that whomever it was they were fairly exhausted. Maybe a refugee from the city? Adrian asked himself what a great hero adventurer would do in this situation, and decided that letting the senior members of the group decide would be the best course of action. He glanced back at John, "Hey, Fancypants, what do you wanna do with this guy?" Adrian whispered in a low tone.
From all the jostling and running, Adrian had sobered up considerably, but still felt the effects of intoxication. Adrian stood up, slowly, his whole world spinning. Shaking his head, slightly, and steeling himself, Adrian righted his posture. "Yeah, I think I'm good to walk." Adrian replied, running a hand over his face, and hair. Adrian looked around. They were near the forest that covered the side of the mountains. It was obvious, even in Adrian's current state, that the town was in a uproar, and the farther the group got from the town, the better. "Right. We're heading over the mountains, right? I'll lead." Adrian said, with a sense of authority. Despite the intoxication, Adrian had the remarkable ability to right his composure, and make it seem as if he was perfectly fine. Adrian began a slightly staggered march towards the mountains. In truth, Adrian had never made a mountain crossing before, but once again, the thrill of adventure began to propel Adrian to do increasingly stupid, and immature, things.
Adrian wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, but was aware that Crom had graciously picked him up, and taken him. Had Adrian had the strength, he'd resist this current predicament. Adrian bounced along, and could hear the buzz of people talking, but couldn't make out any of the words. Suddenly, a loud roar, much like that of an angry wolf, pierced Adrian's hearing, sobering him up slightly. The roar sounded as if he came from a large creature, bigger than a normal wolf. "Didja guz hear hat?" Adrian slurred, as he tried to tilt his head and look around, but it was difficult considering his current position. Then, it came. Adrian felt the overwhelming urge build up inside him. Like a arrow being knocked and fired from a bow, it sprang forth like a fountain. A stream of vomit erupted from Adrian's mouth, most of it landing on the ground, but some of it getting on Crom. "I don't lish benen drunk." Adrian managed out, still mind-numbingly drunk.
Alright, man. Have a good weekend
"My name's Adrian. Adrian Brady." Adrian replied to Crom with a slightly slurred speech. At the newcomer's question, Adrian's ears perked up. "Yeah! I'm heading west! I could come with you, and help you over the mountains." Adrian replied, excitedly. This was his chance to strike out and actually earn something for himself. As Adrian took the last gulp from his drink, he was practically fully under the effects of the drink. Due to Adrian's state, he didn't hear any of the commotion outside. Adrian then turned to Griff, "The edge of the Empire? Over by the League? Isn't it fairly dangerous to live in that area?" Adrian asked, as he titled his head to face Griff, whom Adrian was now seeing double of, due to his state. Adrian grew up on the horror stories of what rebels did to children and women, and because of his otherwise sheltered life, Adrian believed them for the most part. People of the League might as well be trolls and ogres, as far as Adrian was concerned. Adrian noticed Crom taking a sharp look at the door, carefully watching it through the corner of his eye. It was at this point that Adrian could now hear the tense voices coming from behind the door. He craned his head, slightly, and turned his full attention to the door, now.
As the scene unfolding before Adrian, he could feel a lump building in his throat. As the brick of the man walked over to the bar, Adrian's hand slowly reached for his dagger, which was in his belt loop, under his cloak, but it was soon obvious that the man meant no harm, and even paid for another drink for Adrian. Adrian flashed a nervous smile. Adrian turned around in his stool, and drank from his first honeymead, attempting to get use to the taste. "By the explosion, and the number of alarm bells being used, it's probably some sort of accident on one of the Empire's ships." Adrian said, taking another sip. Adrian was starting to feel the effects of his beverage, and he swayed his head slightly. As the man who had sat beside Adrian asked the mercenary's name, Adrian tilted his head, to look at the man. He was waiting for an answer to. Surely, someone has impressive looking and intimidating as this man had some sort of famous name.
Adrian patted his chest as he recovered from his drink. Suddenly, he heard a voice call out from the other end of the room, teasing him at his expense. Adrian sweated slightly, it seemed like all eyes were now on him. While the man's voice was warm, and welcoming, Adrian was too worried about attempting to keep face. What would a gruff adventurer say to someone who had just teased him? "Sorry, it just tastes a lot like your mother's fish pie." Adrian said, in his best mock gruff voice, without turning around to face the voice. He smiled to himself. ~ Nice one. ~ He thought to himself, congratulating himself on what he considered a good comeback. It had not even occurred to Adrian to turn around and take a look at the man he was addressing, but Adrian knew something was wrong when none of the other patrons laughed, instead opting for a dead silence. Adrian slowly began to turn around, and took a look at the man. Adrian paled as he took in the man. He was a tower, built like a brick wall, compared to Adrian. He was obviously some sort of hardened warrior. Adrian gulped as he gripped his honeymead in one hand, and took a swig, without breaking eye contact with the man. With a contorted face, Adrian swallowed the drink, with a loud gulp. An attempt to look tough, and discourage any type of retribution from the stranger. This attempt was poor, though, due to the fact that Adrian, soon after swallowing, made a face that told other's that were looking that he was on the verge of complete disgust.
Adrian sat at an empty table inside the tavern, minding his own business. In front of him laid his family's heirloom, a old dagger. He fiddled with it in his hands, as he surveyed the tavern. A man had just burst into the Mast, looking fairly suspicious. There were two men talking in the corner of the tavern, where one had previous been sitting with a sign that Adrian didn't know how to read. Adrian's eyes slumped back down to his dagger, and he continued to fiddle with it in his hands. Thoughts began to race through his head, back to his family. He began to wonder if he had made the right decision to abandon his family. A solemn look overtook Adrian's face as he sat, still as a tree. He had left the safety of his family, and entered a world that was on the verge of fire. This is what he wanted, though, right? He wanted the thrill of danger and adventure. He didn't want the boring safety of status quo. He wanted to have sword fights, and have a crossbow aimed at his head. He didn't wanted the life of warm meals, and comfort. He wanted to live rough and hard. He wanted to become a legend. A man whom lived off the land, who slayed bandits by the wagon load, who helped all those in need, to be the good hero this world deserves. He wouldn't be able to achieve that if he was sitting comfortably in his family's holdfast.

Adrian's eyes drifted back up to the tavern, still fiddling with the dagger in his has. He contemplated joining the men at the table at the far end of the bar. He could inquire about the sign, and perhaps join in in whatever adventure the two men were playing. Adrian shifted in his chair, moving his fur cloak slightly to the side, revealing his skinny frame underneath. Adrian's blood began to boil, and rush, as he thought about all the adventures and quests he could go on with the two men whom looked far more experienced than he. The both of them had obviously been around the world, and see some things. Maybe he could even squire for one of them. Older adventurers were always looking to take on a young ward in order to take care of all the small chores for them. Adrian slowly stood up from the table, sheathing his dagger, and walking up to the bar, and taking a seat on the stool. Adrian luckily looked far older than he was, although he didn't possess any facial hair. This was mainly due to his height, and how he towered over most people. As one of the barmaids came to take Adrian's order, Adrian let loose his gruffest sounding voice, 'One honeymead, please." Adrian said, raising one finger. The barmaid went off to retrieve the beverage. After a moment, the barmaid returned with Adrian's glass of honeymead. Adrian's blood rushed, again, for a moment. He had never drank before, but now was his chance. As Adrian drank from the normally sweet drink, he had not anticipated it being as sour as it was. Adrian instinctively spat the drink back up, covering the entire counter of the bar in front of him with a layer of honeymead. Other patrons of the Mast, that were sitting at the bar, began to give Adrian the stink eye.
Name: Adrian Brady (Former Adrian Lancer)
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Weapons: The only weapon Adrian possesses on himself in a small dagger, made of questionable quality. The dagger is a family heirloom, though, and has been in service of the Brady family for well over 100 years.
Personality: Adrian is fairly silent, and prefers to speak through actions, rather than words. He's a very down-to-earth person, and always keeps his eye on the goal at hand, rarely letting distractions derail his intentions. Adrian always acts in his own best interest, but can grow to care about the people around him.
History: Adrian was born to a noble family that was well off in the world, in a perfect position to be able to sit out any kind of conflict that might start. Adrian, however, hated the stale status quo, and in the middle of one night, he stole the family heirloom, and set out for himself, attempting to build a image for himself.
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