Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20150618162258/@comment-6006054-20150622000228

Uvaryl entered Sentinel. He felt out of place here. To the people of this city his armor, familiar and common in his home, was an exotic oddity. That, or he himself was. The occasional stares he drew thinned rapidly, however. Orsimer onslaughts probably had a way of dulling curiousity at the unknown. He hoped that he could find a job here. Last few villages had plenty of work for him, and the exact opposite when it came to coin. He had helped them anyways, beggars could very rarely be choosers, and he was one step above becoming one.