<div class="floatleft">(http://i1105.photobucket.com/albums/h357/daniellex28/barbarian_by_la__boheme-d6xc4fq22223333444_zpsrsqomeyv.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>:<em>Gabriel Bersk  </em><br/><strong>Hit Points</strong>:<em>55/55</em><br/><hr/><br/>"My talent?" A dry, cynical laugh escaped the man before Tannik, and he abandoned the grip of the now empty tankard, linking his fingers in a loose grip in front of him instead. "My only<em>talent</em>, I fear, lies in my inability to find peace in Death, and it isn't for lack of trying." He shifted his weight forward, hunching over the table. The manner was almost conspiring, although Gabriel had little reason to trust the man who knew more about him than all of Eodin combined. Where before, he had been content to mostly ignore this fact, the mention of his fallen brethren was considerably more unnerving; the almost casual way in which Tannik purposely revealed all that he knew about him suggested an amount of confidence bordering on arrogance that either made him very ignorant... or very dangerous. Gabriel found himself idly hoping that it was the latter.<br/><br/>"Understand, I care nothing for becoming your errand boy. If you want to convince me, I need something more than vague promises." He shook his head, although he wasn't quite as opposed to the proposition as perhaps he made it seem. He<em>had</em>travelled south for a reason after all, and when even the torturous plains of the everlasting cold could not pose enough of a challenge, then perhaps the stranger sitting opposite Gabriel was his final chance of finding what he was so desperately searching for.<br/><br/>Whatever that was.<br/><br/><br/>