<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#0000ff">"Rrggg..."</span><br/><br/>An obviously irritated growl came from one of the many shacks on the waterfront, loud enough to be heard by those passing. The abandoned shack had been originally the housing place of two residents of the waterfront, though they had mysteriously disappeared some time ago. Inside of the shack now was a somewhat fair-skinned Breton, dressed in leather pants and boots, with the chest and hood laying on the floor beside him. The Breton's skin was charred and burnt in places, dark-blue hair falling over burns on his shoulders, the man obviously in pain.<br/><br/>Grumbling once more, he closed his eyes, hovering his hand over one of the burns on his arms. His chest bore both old and new scars dotted along under the burns - burns so bad in some places that a shift upon the part of the man caused it to crackle, gaining another hiss. Some kind of smoke hung around the ceiling, though the man seemed unbothered.<br/><br/>Slowly, painstakingly, the burns began to seal, moving back to whole, healthy, though somewhat red skin. The man breathed out once more, giving the attention to his other arm.<br/><br/>Against the wall within grabbing distance lay a seemingly normal-looking bow, at first glance, as well as a dagger, unsheathed. Upon closer examination, though, one would see the red glimmer from both, hinting at a more sinister enchantment laying below the surface of the seemingly ordinary weapons.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#0000ff">"Irritating guards..."</span>came the deep voice of the man as he breathed out again, both arms restored now.