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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Isida Kep'Tukari" data-source="post: 6182727" data-attributes="member: 4441">A few tables away, a very tall muscular man is sitting in the company of several other mercenaries.  Despite the cold he's dressed lightly, and you can see disks of glowing material set into his chest and spine.  He doesn't speak very much, despite the chattering warriors sitting near him, and looks over all and sundry with a calculating gaze.  He looks like the sort of man who could, and maybe has, taken on a small army.  Seregal, of this you're certain.  You've traveled enough to hear of a gladiator fitting this man's description, a man who was an undefeated champion for years until the arena was utterly destroyed.  No one had heard of him since, at least no more than rumor.---Duncan, you're not a man to waste excess words, but you're also not someone to turn down necessary items.  You've had to fend for yourself since you've been on your own, and why spend your own shins when the mercenaries that had this table at the tavern had offered you food and drink?  At least one of them had seen you in person, and they were similar to the easily-entertained mob you remember.  They seemed more interested in talking around you, rather than listening to you, but from their chatter, you heard some interesting things."...warm as summer, when there was snow falling not a mile back.  So old Varney thinks we're in the cream, of course, no need to waste more fuel and firewood, and sets up camp there.  Big bloody mistake, and the blood shed being ours.  Storm-suckered broken hounds, a huge pack of the things, all over the camp as soon as the sun went down.  Spirits of my ancestors, at least you used to be able to count on winter driving the things away, but every warm-loving thing in the Beyond seems to have found this place and is trying to stake their claim.  We lost four before we could call the alarm, another three in the fight, one of the hounds nearly gets my arm, and that was before the mutant bastards showed up.  I'm not going out again unless there are a whole lot more of us," one woman is saying, nursing a heavily-bandaged arm and a tall mug of beer.</blockquote>

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