Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20160228221959/@comment-6006054-20160316231606

Taervik entered the hall. His bow was across his back, and he rested his bardiche on his shoulder. Several pouches at his belt clinked dully as he sat, filled with steel vials of poison. He had trained, drilled, prepared, and planned. Taervik was ready.