Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20150618162258/@comment-6006054-20150625001238

Uvaryl exited the tavern into the night. The air was cool, and the streets were much emptier than when he had entered the tavern. He sat down across from the tavern, like before. When the moon reached its zenith he would slip into an alleyway somwhere and sleep. No one would rob him. He was well armed and had nothing worth taking. His swords were nothing special, and wouldn't sell for much. His shield had seen heavy use, and likewise wouldn't be worth much. Most importantly, his coin pouch was limp and almost completely empty.