Unhappy Customer [Open]

The hand that retrieved the knife for the young woman was calloused and silver with scars on the knuckles, but it still lifted and held it out for her with a politeness that could only be bred rather than taught. "I'm guessing this is yours?" Should she take the small blade, Ronin would straighten up and offer her a smile, finishing unbuttoning his coat where he had just walked into the Rathskeller. It was bitter outside, snow dusting his shoulders and his dark hair, and breathing in the warmth and life of the tavern was nothing short of wonderful. Hunting was slow in the cold, but it didn't stop him from trying. Usual game wasn't his forte, though - monsters were more to Ronin's taste. He had patrolled the Spire as was his habit by now, walking its perimeter at a distance that could only be deemed over-cautious. Now more than ever, he doubted the demon would leave its territory, but... he had to check. Always. Once he was sure it wasn't lurking anywhere close to the Sanctuary, he'd headed to the Woodlands. There were rumours of something out there in the snow and the cold, wailing something awful, and Ronin was keen to find out what that was. Obviously, he hadn't been successful. So, frozen to the bones, he'd come here to thaw out. "Do you need a hand up?" he asked, offering his own once more. TALIESIN SO LOOK, AND CONNECT WE'RE REFUSING TO RUST HEALING HAS TO BEGIN IN THE PAST