Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-11588669-20140430022911

He sighed, zipping up the bag. Everything was in place: food, spare clothing, the tools he'd have to use for mining, spare ammo, knives of both varieties he'd need if he ever got into a pinch. In another bag beside him was a tent, firestarters, and cooking spices. He wasn't Umbra, but he could make a decent stew. Once more, he sighed, and finished his preperations.

Tightening the straps, Nox looked out the window of the airship. Everything he could see was getting bigger, so they were descending. He slung Nightfall around his shoulder, and looked at the others out of the corner of his eye. A reminder of something he detested. Being forced into cooperation. And friendliness.

He really didn't see a point, but that was the assignment they were on. And he'd complete it like it was another contract. Only he didn't get paid. Or vent. Or even solo it.

The teenage mercenary really, really hated this school. 