Lefos

Elias sat at the bar, listening to the gentle piano music. Shortly after draining his glass, he placed his glass down. "Hey barkeep, gimme somethin' stronger! Don't care what, just make sure its cheap," he said, glaring down the bartender. Elias had too drink cheap these days, money was getting tight. He was a wandering gunman, doing whatever odd-jobs came up for money. "Damn these Glefargians...cheap *** bastards. Nobody'll even pay me to watch their damn kids," he thought to himself. He ran his hand through his long silver hair, turned such by an unfortunate magus a few months back. He was sitting at a bar near some lake or another, he'd forgotten the name.

Looking over at the bartender, he noticed that he wasn't being heeded at all. "Fine, I get the message," he said. "Damn elves," he thought, "just because I'm a human they show me no friggin' respect..." Checking his wallet, he noticed that he was, in all respects, poor as dirt. It had been a full two weeks since he had any real work. "Guess its time to get some work. I'm sure somebody around here ain't as cheap as everybody else...must have SOME kind of job for me." He left enough money to cover his tab and got up from his stool. His flak jacket made a slight noise as he stood, his pants(a pair of camouflaged shorts.) dropped down just past his knees. Grabbing his gun, an old semi-auto laser rifle, from against the bar, he started towards the door.

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