Name:<br/>Krixxus<br/>Race:<br/>Orc<br/>Age:<br/>40-ish, slightly older than middle aged for an Orc<br/>Gender:<br/>Male<br/>Attire:<br/>Impressive and commanding-looking armor, crafted to be primarily black with some dark purple and green accents. It looks vicious, and he carries a massive shield and weapon on his back to match. His face is covered by a black mask from the nose-down, but the top of it is exposed, showing dark, muddy-colored eyes and a black mohawk for hair. The armor is crafted specifically to fit every curve of his body, and despite its obvious weight he is able to move about as if wearing nothing at all; he's clearly trained with it for many years.<br/><br/>(( imageshack.us/photo/my-images/89/krixxrpgear.png/  for what it actually looks like))<br/><br/>Appearance:<br/>Krixxus' eyes are very intense, and as the rest of his face is hidden by the mask, they are the only source of information about his mood for physical pickups. Under his armor he's extremely well-muscled from a life of constant training and fighting, and scars riddle his body like flies to a jar of honey. It's very clear to anyone who could see beneath it that he's never known a life without conflict; and yet, his attitude and appearance all point towards a lack of desire to know one.<br/><br/>--------------------<br/><br/>Krixxus had rented a room in the Inn that morning, having travelled through the night, and woken up only minutes ago. After arming himself as normal, he began to walk downstairs to try to enjoy some of the finer points of the bar when the commotion began. He squinted and looked to the entrance, determining what was going on. Seeing people swarm it didn't help, though from the stairs he could at least make out a body lying prone on the ground.<i>None of my business anyway,</i>he thinks. He continues on his way downstairs, taking a seat at the bar.<br/><br/>"Mug of water, please," he orders. The Goblin finally tears his eyes from the scene and frowns at Krixxus. "Be five gold," he says.<br/><br/>Krixxus leans across the bar slowly, his face setting inches from the Goblin, who tries to look tough but begins sweating and visibly shaking. "Are we gonna have a problem here?" Krixxus asks, tone implying the threat of violence without actually saying such.<br/><br/>Stammering, the Goblin replies, "N-n-no s-s-sir...I meant five silver. Apologies." Krixxus leans back, counting out the change, and sliding it to the barman before taking his water. As he sips on it, he looks back to the commotion, his curiosity rising.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>