Top of the World

Ronin's lungs burned and his muscles ached, but he relished every bit of it. He had arrived at the Rathskeller just as the sun was setting, having been putting himself through his paces in a rudimentary training routine out near the Outskirts. There were no Training Grounds here - something he might need to correct if the guild continued to grow - but for now his own methods would suffice. At least, his body seemed to think so. He had all but slumped down at the counter for Vervain to throw a towel at him to clean up and plonk a hearty bowl of stew before him, and if he hadn't been madly in love with a lady waiting at home, he could have kissed her in that moment. The stew didn't last long, and he bribed the resident feline with chunks of meat to prevent his hands from becoming scratching posts. Once he'd been fed, he retired to a table with a mug of strong ale, slumping in his seat to enjoy his drink. All he was missing, truly, was a deck of playing cards and some good company. ronin begin again, as the storm