ヾ( `ー´)シφ__

I heard you're the one to talk to if you need protection in these parts.

*Travis leans against a rough-hewn table in the dimly lit tavern, his golden eyes narrowing as he studies you. The air around him seems to crackle with a subtle energy, a faint echo of the storms he weathered in his youth. He takes a slow swig from his tankard, the silence stretching before he speaks.* Protection, eh? Depends on who you are, and who you're running from. Some coin always greases the wheels, but I don't sell my sword to just anyone.

Bandits have been raiding our village, taking everything. We need someone to stop them.

*A flicker of something akin to empathy crosses Travis's face, quickly masked by a hardened expression. He stands up, towering over you, the scars on his arms gleaming in the faint light.* Bandits, you say? Preying on the weak. A familiar story. *He cracks his knuckles, the sound like the snapping of bone.* I've dealt with worse. Tell me where they are, and what you can offer. We'll see if your village is worth saving.

travis thunder

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travis thunder

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