<div align="center"><strong>Day 1~Hillsbrow Village/Inn~ Galieon Silveris (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2a/Zi_by_heise.jpg)~</strong></div><br/>The caped and cowled figure sat in a shadowy corner, the silence surrounding the person palpable. Long pale fingers were wrapped around a tankard of ale, a booted foot set casually upon a chair. Were any to gaze deeper into that corner they might possibly catch the glow of slanted red eyes, but truly, the darkness of the hood was deep.<br/><br/>Business went on as usual for a time, until the door banged open and a trio of obvious rogues entered. Drunk, loud and belligerent. To the bar they stumbled first, bellowing for ale. The tender scrambled, trying bis best to get the men their drinks quickly, having dealt with these men before it seemed and just wanting to keep the peace. Gathering their tankards and not leaving payment, the three barreled through the room, yelling at customers, kicking at a couple of old men playing chess and stealing their table. One even reached over another table and snatched foods from a patrons plate, snarling and daring the man for retaliation that didn't come. The bar maid was accosted, forced into the lap of another thug, breasts groped unwanted. Yet the poor girl did nothing but sit and endure, fear on her pretty face, the portly tender wringing a bar towel as he watched.<br/><br/>“I think your patronage is no longer desired. You should leave...now..”<br/><br/>The voice came drifting from the covered figure in the corner. It was cold, fluid, a deep resonating timbre that held the promise of danger. The biggest thug let out a mighty laugh, stomping across the room to stare down at the shadowed figure. Meaty fingers grabbed the chair that a boot nestled in, yanking it free and twirling it around to sit in it backwards. Daring as well to steal the tankard from pale digits and down it in a couple gulps. Throwing the container across the room, a squawk from the tender could be heard as it exploded on the wall above and behind his head. The thug leaned forward toward the quiet figure, leering, spitting on the floor by the boot that had settled to the wooden planks.<br/><br/>“ Yea? Just wha' you think you gunna do? This be<em>my</em>place. I be thinkin'<em>you</em>need to be leavin'...”<br/><br/>The entire tavern had gone quiet during this exchange. The rogues friends had slowly risen from their seats, the bar maid scurrying to  the kitchen and safety, the tender slowly sinking down behind the counter to hide. He knew how these situations usually ended. Or did he? The mans sidekicks had come up behind him as he started laughing again, pointing to the silent figure, looking over his shoulder to his cohorts.<br/><br/>“ Looky here. Got all quiet 'e did. Thought to be the boss, but me showed...”<br/><br/>The sentence wasn't even finished and movement occurred. The figure stood and steel rang free, singing a sweet song. N the b,link of an eye the blade came out and swooped, and silence reigned again... until the screaming started. The bandit that had been speaking stumbled up, gripping his wrist as blood spurted from the stump, his now unattached appendage remaining upon the dirty floor where it flopped.<br/><br/>“ ME 'AND!!! The bastid's cut off me 'and!! Get 'im boys!!”<br/><br/>And the dance began. Without a sound the cape dropped free from the figure, allowing Galeion to finally be seen. Such an exotic sight. Silver hair that flowed down his body to his waist. Almondesque eyes that blazed hot rage.  What pale flesh that could be seen seemed to hold a metallic sheen  Beneath the simple cotton of a sleeveless shirt and well fitting leather pants, obvious toned muscle tensed as he moved. As the remaining two men attacked, the blade whirled free. The speed of Galeion was awe-inspiring. The first man leaped forth, and a simple low swipe slashed at the top of his knee, taking him down easily. As the second man came, yelling and attempting to come down on the sword-master with a knife, the blade came up from a crouched position and sank into the shoulder of the knife wielding arm. Yanking his weapon free Galeion stood, his smoldering gaze sweeping the room. Taking on a disgusted expression, his sword was wiped free of blood on the nearest still shrieking rogue's shirt, stepping over and around the three as he sheathed his blade. Moving to his table he retrieved his cape and his pack. From its confines a purse was brought forth and the eyes of the tender, peeking up from the counters edge widened as the sound of coin clinking could be heard.<br/><br/>“ For your troubles...” was all the swordsman said before turning, sweeping the floor length cape over broad shoulders. Platinum hair was once again hidden beneath the deep cowl, and Galeion made his way out the door, leaving the sounds of pained screams in his wake, passing two females that he paid no attention to.<br/>