Thraxis
The Damn-Forged
Thraxis looked quizzically. Fear or respect. He didn't need to worry about being stabbed in the back, this lot were shock troops. They nearly always died after a fight and those few that managed almost always died in the next. A brutal hierarchy of death had infested the Jackals, one day Thraixs would have to invest into them but for now he just needed to send in waves to overwhelm his opposition. In return he flashed a fake smile in response, he had little idea of how to respond but it seemed she was not to familiar with how shock troopers worked.
Thraxis headed towards the command dock, taking a seat wherever he could he pulled out a small vial, corking the lid the stench of ale permeated through the air, its strong stench quickly being snuffed as it dispersed down his throat, small beads of alcohol running down his lips and landing with silent splashes as he breathed a sigh of relief.
[member="Sanya Val Swift"] [member="Stardust"]
Thraxis headed towards the command dock, taking a seat wherever he could he pulled out a small vial, corking the lid the stench of ale permeated through the air, its strong stench quickly being snuffed as it dispersed down his throat, small beads of alcohol running down his lips and landing with silent splashes as he breathed a sigh of relief.
[member="Sanya Val Swift"] [member="Stardust"]