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<blockquote data-quote="Blue_Genie" data-source="post: 1793033" data-attributes="member: 13477">Rorgun of Wrath AlleyRorgun straightens his clothes, as he emerges from the alley, brushing off some of the road dirt which has accumulated in the last month.&nbsp; He gives the street a good look in either direction before making his way into the safe house.Entering the building, he listens to the singing coming from the upstairs room, a puzzled expression on his face.&nbsp; He climbs the stairs and peeks into the room where the others have gathered, trying to size up those inside.&nbsp; When the singing has ended, he walks into the room, safe in the knowledge that the dagger in his arm sheathe is only a flick away.What the others see:As the singer's song ends, a smallish, disheveled figure enters the room, a large backpack strapped to his back.&nbsp; Without saying a word, he makes his way over to a window, and unbuckles the bag he's been carrying.&nbsp; His eyes dart nervously from person to person, seeming to size everyone up.&nbsp; He gives a quick nod and clears his throat, opening the window next to him, and looking out into the street for a brief moment.&quot;It's a bit stuffy in here,&quot; he rasps, clearing his throat again.He's looks to be a man in his mid-twenties who hasn't had a bath in quite a long time.&nbsp; His dark-brown hair hangs in long, dirt-caked hair strands to his shoulders framing a non-descript face.&nbsp; Only his attentive, bright eyes make him stand out in the least.&nbsp; He wears well-worn travel clothes, many patches covering the knees and elbows.After glancing out of the window for a moment he returns his focus to the others in the room, whom he continues to watch as he takes a seat next to his backpack.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Blue_Genie, post: 1793033, member: 13477"] [b]Rorgun of Wrath Alley[/b] Rorgun straightens his clothes, as he emerges from the alley, brushing off some of the road dirt which has accumulated in the last month. He gives the street a good look in either direction before making his way into the safe house. Entering the building, he listens to the singing coming from the upstairs room, a puzzled expression on his face. He climbs the stairs and peeks into the room where the others have gathered, trying to size up those inside. When the singing has ended, he walks into the room, safe in the knowledge that the dagger in his arm sheathe is only a flick away. What the others see: As the singer's song ends, a smallish, disheveled figure enters the room, a large backpack strapped to his back. Without saying a word, he makes his way over to a window, and unbuckles the bag he's been carrying. His eyes dart nervously from person to person, seeming to size everyone up. He gives a quick nod and clears his throat, opening the window next to him, and looking out into the street for a brief moment. "[COLOR=Lime]It's a bit stuffy in here[/COLOR]," he rasps, clearing his throat again. He's looks to be a man in his mid-twenties who hasn't had a bath in quite a long time. His dark-brown hair hangs in long, dirt-caked hair strands to his shoulders framing a non-descript face. Only his attentive, bright eyes make him stand out in the least. He wears well-worn travel clothes, many patches covering the knees and elbows. After glancing out of the window for a moment he returns his focus to the others in the room, whom he continues to watch as he takes a seat next to his backpack. [/QUOTE]

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