Scott Steven Bell
First Post
A grizzled warrior steps into the bar. He glances around instintively. Graps an ale and sits with his back to the wall towards the door. Laying his large sword against the table within easy reach he shifts his armor. His platemail that once shinned like a mirror is now dusty from neglect. Its large open palm guantlet symbol emblazened on the chest still seems to shine through though.
His face is scarred and hair is long and unkept. His eyes show a weariness that few could understand.
The door to the bar opens and in leap 3 vampires. The large man leaps to his feat. Kicking a chair into the closet creature while drawing his sword. The blade lights the room up like he unsheathed the sun. The vampires flesh begins to burn. Before the creatures can center themselves they are ash.
Bulwark, the paladin of Helm has faced hordes of creatures uncounted. He lives to stave off the creatures that would over take these frontier towns. After looking at the scene he collects his chair, and continues enjoying his only solace from his duties.....he needs another ale.
His face is scarred and hair is long and unkept. His eyes show a weariness that few could understand.
The door to the bar opens and in leap 3 vampires. The large man leaps to his feat. Kicking a chair into the closet creature while drawing his sword. The blade lights the room up like he unsheathed the sun. The vampires flesh begins to burn. Before the creatures can center themselves they are ash.
Bulwark, the paladin of Helm has faced hordes of creatures uncounted. He lives to stave off the creatures that would over take these frontier towns. After looking at the scene he collects his chair, and continues enjoying his only solace from his duties.....he needs another ale.
