<span style="color: #FFFF00">"A promise of adventure is pretty much all it is. I'm a slav, which means I'm consistantly looking for entertainment and fun."</span>He said as he collected the brass, following the path he made through the streets. There were a couple more dead Horseman along the way with 7.62mm holes riddled through their corpses, most centering around or in their heads. Periodically he'd take of his pack and dump the rounds he'd picked up in it, and would request you do the same. There was a point where he stopped and moved to an area where there were two dead men and a woman. One of the men was in a worn Russian Colonel's Spetnaz uniform.<br/><br/>Vasya walked over to each of them and closed their eyes. From the Spetnaz Colonel he also took all of the magazines and their Kalashnikov, which was an AK-103. Of the others, one carried an AR-15, which Vasya ignored outright, and another with an RPD, which he also took but seemed to think about for a for a moment before slipping his own rifle between his back and backpack.<span style="color: #FFFF00"> "These people were my companions for part of my journey across Europe. They deserved better, and deserve a burial that I can't give them."</span>He stated sadly.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"There'll be more of these beasts converging on our position soon and in much greater numbers. Better to move on and live another day, since I don't have anything like the equipment you have."</span>