Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1592115-20150514052002/@comment-25038310-20150516175924

A shadowy hunter sat in the corner of the inn, crossing his arms. He held a cup of mead, although he didn't take off his helm. He chuckled silently at the story, as it somehow echoed across the inn yet again.

"''The hunt spares none from its merciless tide. Alas, one may run, but never hide." '' The hunter said, talking gibberish. He seemed to be talking more to himself though, rather than the rest of the inn.