Marlon and the Nompariel regulars

‘Pelor’s balls, I can’t believe you survived!’

Marlon smiles idiotically, as his old city guard friends greet him incredulously.

He was following Sereena to find employment at a well known 'Gentlemen's club', when coincidentally bumping into them.

With the silent Sereena and her ferret familiar in tow, the group make their way to a nearby drinking establishment.

Captain Lowe puts his chubby arm around Marlon’s thick, bull neck.

‘So, will you be rejoining the guard now that you’ve got that suicidal adventuring idea out of your thick head?’

Marlon’s smile falters and he looks to Sereena for an answer.

“Don’t ask me, you great big dofus. I can’t help myself. My dragon tainted blood draws me toward my own downfall but you? You can put this foolishness behind you and use our near death experience as a story to warn your grandchildren against doing anything as dumb themselves.”

Oddly, the smile fades completely from Marlon’s broad face.

“No. If I’ve leaned anything at all, it’s that I need to be a better fighter. Better at defending myself and… you.”

Sereena smiles for a moment before shaking her head.

“That’s a lovely offer of you Marlon but I already have a pet.”

Marlon looks crestfallen but juts out his bovine jaw.

“If I can find enough coin, I’m going to enroll in the ‘Moorcock combat camp’ anyway.”

Guffaws erupt from his well stewed drinking buddies.

“Har Har! You said ‘cock’!”