<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/>The tavern, as on most nights, was uncomfortably busy. The general focus was on the wooden stage upon which several scantily dressed dames coyly persuaded the captivated - and largely male- audience to part with their hard-earned coin. Bar wenches carried large tankards of frothy ale to the mostly occupied tables, rewarded with tips that grew increasingly bigger as they offered more generous displays of their milky bosoms. On the first nights of his being here, they had approached Gabriel, with cooing voices and honey-sweet words, which had only served to make their guest uncomfortable; they'd left him mostly alone now. There was a pitiful attempt at music somewhere in the corner, and as always, Gabriel found himself trying to put the scattered tones into a melody in his mind, but the rowdy patrons made it increasingly impossible to hear the persistent efforts of the elven musicians in the corner of the establishment. He appreciated the sight of the redheaded bard, straining his hearing to at least pick up a semblance of her southern lilt, but to little avail.<br/><br/>He supposed that he should be grateful to be distracted; when the stranger sat opposite the barbarian, it was the first opportunity for real conversation in days. Gabriel found that he was largely disconnected from civilization - nine years in the solitude of Everwinter would do that to you - and he was still getting back into the swing of things, to put it crudely. Large crowds made him uneasy, which was exactly the reason why he would force himself to remain within the tavern each night, rather than to flee into the privacy of his room upstairs.<em>He was many things, but not a coward.</em><br/><br/>As the man called him by his name, Gabriel shifted in his seat and cast him a proper look. His golden orbs, widowed remnants of a much brighter past, examined the stranger, who introduced himself by a name that held no meaning to the barbarian. To find someone who knew Gabriel by his own name, one that fallen to disuse for nigh on a century was disconcerting, but not by far the most unnerving thing Gabriel had encountered over the past years. He remained visibly unfazed, and rather than responding immediately, downed the remainder of his drink, smacking his lips as he allowed the taste of the bittery liquid to fade.<br/><br/>"It's too warm," he commented after some time. The mug hit the wooden surface of the table with an unrefined thud. "Ever since I returned, I find that the world is too warm." His gaze briefly wandered down, lingering on the simple shirt he wore. It was a courtesy he had not really been willing to pay, but that allowed him to blend in more with his environment than if he were to sit here all night, bare-chested. "I suppose you caught me at the right time,<em>Azzir Tannik</em>. I had half a mind to return to the North. Eodin has not been able to offer me the challenge I've been looking for." His eyes narrowed slightly; Gabriel was not a man of patience. "What is it you have to offer?"