Ollumhammersong — Roleplayer Guild

The door to the Scrotum was soon forced open on it's rusty hinges yet again to admit a dour looking character. Covered in drab grey from head to toe, his bionic limbs hidden beneath his worn trench-coat  creaking with every movement from neglect of oil and properly sanctified lubricants. Save for his face he was covered head to toe, with a hood drawn up that failed to hide the resperator grill replacing his fleshmouth and nose. A network of military style webbing covered his torso, pockets filled with all manner of odds and pieces, from munition for the autogun cradled in his arm, too tools and scraps of technology scavenged and/or hoarded since his parting with the priesthood. He looked every inch the vagabond, and he despised himself for it. Ten years ago the mere thought of associating himself with a tavern as... colourfully named as this would not even have been comprehensible to him. To variables and probabilities so ludicrously low as to be almost incalcuable. Much less being forced to work alongside the dregs of human society that would patronize it. But such was his sad state of life.

As he stepped into that disreputable hole of an establishment, he became grateful for the respirator grill. Simply breathing through a fleshnose in an establishment such as this was probably hazardous for the lungs. He could only imagine what the horrid stench of such a place was. His filters detected nearly enough alcoholic residue in the air to make one drunk by breathing. 

Octavian quickly scanned his surroundings for potential threats, his organic eyes quickly searching every corner for shadowed threats and every patron for weapons pointed his way. Satisfied when he detected a negligible threat level, he allowed himself to venture deeper into the decrepit tavern, though he did not relax. Finding himself a seat facing the door, waving away any offer of drink While he took in the sight of those others gathering around him. He imaged at least some of them were here for the same reason he was. And it didn't take much effort to determine who those individuals were, and who were regular drunkards.
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