Seanu Reaves
The Shogun of Gaming
“Sorry to tell you boy,” Rangar said to the younger assassin. “The only other man I see here is the blacksmith.”
Rangar indicated with his pointer finger revealing a small fork. He groaned, sometimes true believers can be pure idiots. So many things Rangar could have said but he decided it would be best to make nice. Well as nice as the gruff man could manage, thought he could already recognize the kind of people he was dealing with.
“You can be paranoid as you want, but always remember we are a family. I am your older brother. And I will not be petty enough to demand respect, but you will have to earn mine. I have been killing people for probably a decade longer than you, and all you really need to know is I have more ties to this order than you know. I have never been a thug, and am well studied.”
Rangar stood revealing he was nearly a head taller, and with twice the muscle mass. He had to consciously slow his movement, because his armor was like a second skin so the lack of its familiar weight made Rangar feel far to light.
“Now I am afraid I am too old to play Princess in her Castle with you Aden. But remember respect and trust is a two way road. And being a whining girl never impressed anyone.” Rangar picked up the envelope he selected for himself popping it open. Cassandra Victus, Rangar read breaking into a hunter’s smile. Lucky me, business that is begetting my other business. Back to Skyrim then, means he could take in the Redguard’s head too, Rangar thought about the body he trusted to the Fighter’s Guild. He smiled and mimicked the Breton’s accent almost perfectly if a bit deeper. “Now as much as I love the Jester whose only act is overbearing pretension, I find I have pressing business.”
Rangar grabbed some more food to take on his journey. He mused what was worse with a small smile as he went to gather his things: an idiotic noble or an idiot that thinks he is a noble. With a ritualized precision Rangar began to don his armor. Taking a few more bites of his meal. As hotheaded as I was, Rangar laughed. But definitely a better cook than I was at that age. Rangar took a deep breath through his nose. Yes this is good business, he thought. Ready to start his adventure back to Skyrim by picking up the head of the Redguard first.
Rangar indicated with his pointer finger revealing a small fork. He groaned, sometimes true believers can be pure idiots. So many things Rangar could have said but he decided it would be best to make nice. Well as nice as the gruff man could manage, thought he could already recognize the kind of people he was dealing with.
“You can be paranoid as you want, but always remember we are a family. I am your older brother. And I will not be petty enough to demand respect, but you will have to earn mine. I have been killing people for probably a decade longer than you, and all you really need to know is I have more ties to this order than you know. I have never been a thug, and am well studied.”
Rangar stood revealing he was nearly a head taller, and with twice the muscle mass. He had to consciously slow his movement, because his armor was like a second skin so the lack of its familiar weight made Rangar feel far to light.
“Now I am afraid I am too old to play Princess in her Castle with you Aden. But remember respect and trust is a two way road. And being a whining girl never impressed anyone.” Rangar picked up the envelope he selected for himself popping it open. Cassandra Victus, Rangar read breaking into a hunter’s smile. Lucky me, business that is begetting my other business. Back to Skyrim then, means he could take in the Redguard’s head too, Rangar thought about the body he trusted to the Fighter’s Guild. He smiled and mimicked the Breton’s accent almost perfectly if a bit deeper. “Now as much as I love the Jester whose only act is overbearing pretension, I find I have pressing business.”
Rangar grabbed some more food to take on his journey. He mused what was worse with a small smile as he went to gather his things: an idiotic noble or an idiot that thinks he is a noble. With a ritualized precision Rangar began to don his armor. Taking a few more bites of his meal. As hotheaded as I was, Rangar laughed. But definitely a better cook than I was at that age. Rangar took a deep breath through his nose. Yes this is good business, he thought. Ready to start his adventure back to Skyrim by picking up the head of the Redguard first.