The 'light swig' from the bottle turns out to be possibly the worst tasting oily, chunky, and intensely alcoholic liquid you have ever had the pleasure to revile. It crosses your mind that this might easily be able to be used to clean or lubricate a mechanical device or blade. He smiles as he sees your expression. "The Warforged's special recipe. Cronnk Juice. Heh! "
The shifter, still standing outside, looks around rather nervously and then back to you. He appears confused, which seems contrary to his more diciplined nature to which his unkempt, smelly, and wrinkled exterior belies. It's as if he is not sure what he should do. That moment fades and he hops up into the cart, stands tall, proffers the bottle, and takes a long gulping drink from the bottle. As he stands there cleaning his teeth for a moment the acrid scent of sweat, booze, and oil waft from him and assault your nose due to the close proximity. He then unceremoniously plops down in the seat opposite to you. He looks you over quickly and then you see that he decides that it is ok to talk. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, looking away, and then he looks back at you with his hands extended straight out to his knees with his back straight against the seat's back.
"'Name's Carrig, Sargeant Carrig. 73rd Infantry Division, Carrilot's Brigade. We were a rag tag band of 50 working together in teams of 5.
Warforged, Changeling, two humans and me. Carrilot's Crashers, we were. Lived here and worked here and in the adjacent cars for 5 years. Some came and gone, mostly gone not due to choice. A ballista bolt to the melon tends to ruin your ability to serve, if ya know what I mean. They tried to diversify the soldiers on Galifar's Sword due to the crazy stuff we had to due." He smiles pridefully a little as a host of memories rushes to the front of his mind. You can see the laughter and the deaths, the struggles and the victories all bundled up into one prideful yet painful smile.
He seems to be choosing what to tell you and a host of things pop-up and it seems that he decides to not tell you them. "I will tell ya this, Young Master, There's nothing like the pride of serving your country and living through the hell of death and victory to show you what life really is. These moments show you truly what sort of man you really are." He chuckle-snorts. "If you get the chance in your lifetime, Young Master, do not be afraid of serving and take it up with pride so you can find out who you really are."
His hands and arms relax and he looks intently into your eyes for the effect of his words.