Markus Pulled his axe out starting to sharpen it as the bunny-girl stripped.  He found himself smiling a bit as he watched her revealing her curves under her armor. He barely showed any reactions to the bruises and cuts sustained during the fight and jump from the carriage.  He would remove his armor but he didn't want to draw attention to the many scars he'd attained in his life of slavery.  So he'd learned to be comfortable wearing his armor at all times, or at least as many as he could get away with.  The scars always drew attention and questions, and he always ended up reliving their aplication.  His creul mother and sister and their subordinates whiping him for screwing something up, for not being quick enough, because it amused them.  He shudered a bit remembering and quickly downed his mug of ale ordering another