(Thanks, been a while since I was last on here.)<br/>Garrick finished his flask of what was presumably rum with a pained cough, sputtering a fair amount of it upon himself. He'd acquired various titles in his life, cutthroat, sell-sword scum, twice blighted bastard, usually proclaimed by those he was paid to assault, wound, or otherwise neutralize. Garrick rather liked the last one, though no blacksmith was willin to engrave it for the coin he had, though it may have just been the smell of him.<br/><br/>Garrick was a bit more than six feet tall, and what had once been presumably a muscular build had fallen to lankiness, as constant drinking and whoring were likely to do to a man that sold his sword for coin. His hair was coal, grease and all, reaching down to the sides of his chin in length. Garrick's beard was a mess of old ale, breadcrumbs, and blood, tangled into a beard cut rather shortly, if only to avoid it being use against him in those dark alleys so often the source of his business. Rotted leather and rusty mail adorned his body in various patches, though it lacked the consistency of any actual soldier, mercenary or otherwise. A dirk lay upon his chest in a half ripped sheathe, with a rusted saber hanging loosely by his side, dull as any blade long uncared for would be.<br/><br/>With his drink gone, Garrick tossed it to the street, kicking it away with a tired sigh. The first thought that came to mind was to acquire more of the substance, but it'd been long since he'd seen a place that sold the murky piss of rum that he favored so much. That led to the second thought, a common pub or tavern would do for quenching his thirst, moreso than some common water anyhow. And so with that, he began the search for alcohol, ignoring what he presumed to be hunger growling to him. Booze first, needs later.<br/><br/>Before long, he made his way to a likely tavern, only to be deterred by what was presumably a previous incursion. Garrick hated crowds, deciding simply to watch the group with those blank eyes, waiting to see if any sort of amusement would come for it. "Entertainment, drink, other nonsense, there's an agenda I can follow." He thought to himself with a shrug, leaning against the nearest wall.