<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/kOfnT10.png)</div><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Jorgal Drack (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=329085.msg15732038#msg15732038)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Krogan<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Scout/Assassin<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING:</span></strong>Krogan Combat Armour<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Galley<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Reunion<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Kandok<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>Drack sat at a corner table in the galley, a bottle of something the humans called scotch whiskey in front of him, along with two glasses.  The glasses were small, good for maybe two or three gulps at most, but he had been informed that the glass was only supposed to be filled up to a quarter at most and slowly sipped.  That was apparently the correct way of drinking the supposedly expensive whiskey he had gotten after requesting something to celebrate a reunion of sorts.  He wasn’t exactly celebrating and it wasn’t exactly a reunion, but it was close enough.  There were two krogan on the same ship and they didn’t belong to the same clan; they needed to carry out the Rite of Union to acknowledge that they were going to work together to fight another enemy.  It just so happened that the two of them knew each other too.  Neither of them was a shaman, nor was there one around, so the alcohol would have to do when it came to making it official.<br/><br/>At worst, they’d just headbutt each other until only one of them was standing.<br/><br/>He had encountered Kandok a few times over his career as a scout and mercenary, the other krogan a century younger than him.  Drack had fought on his side and against him, and both had managed to make it out without much fuss.  He didn’t hold any animosity towards him, it was just business after all, and hadn’t they drunk together and swapped stories before?  That made him closer than some of his own brood brothers.  Kandok was someone worth killing, but the older krogan would prioritize other targets over him first if he had the choice.  Drack thought about some of the things they had talked about since the last time they had met, over a few decades ago.  Hadn’t he got married to an asari?  They must have celebrated over copious amounts of ryncol, which was why he couldn’t remember all of the exact details.<br/><br/>Drack looked back at the bottle of whiskey.  Well, Kandok should be showing up soon, but he was quite curious about this whiskey, and he wondered how bad it would be if he had a taste before they started drinking together.  Debating if that would lead to them coming to blows over it, he decided to hold back his curiosity.  He was over seven hundred years old already, he could handle waiting a few more minutes.  Hadn’t he laid in ambush on a desert planet for several days, only relying on the nutrients stored in his hump for sustenance?  Come to think of it, that might have been one of the times he fought on the opposing side to Kandok.  Mercenary work sure took a krogan to interesting places, where he often killed briefly interesting people.