△ HYRULE △ The Golden Era △ [IC]
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January 25th, 2013 (9:00 PM).
Goodbye PC...for now.
East Coast, USA (Represent!)
Doron grinned. "I like ye', lad." This Diceon fellow was a good lad. He seemed like a formidable fighter with that staff of his. "I, myself, am a warrior too." Before Diceon could show any surprise, Doron began to explain. He held up the hammer that was on his right wrist in place of a hand. "Ye' see this? I got this from the Biggoron ages ago. I had lost me hand in a battle with Ganon's goons. Ten years to be exact." He tapped the steel with the index finger of his left hand. "This is made from finest steel. It's made for masonry, but it's also good for bashing a few skulls in." To perform an example, he swung around and lazily brought his hammer down on a boulder, shattering it to pieces. "That, along with my fist, makes my arsenal." He nodded, impressed with his little demonstration of power.
"I don't think they'll be welcoming me back with open arms either, so we have something in-common there, lad." Doron didn't know what Diceon had done, but if it pissed the guards off, Doron was okay with it. "Now, let's go." He set off in a southern direction. "A word to the wise, stay close. The Stalchildren tend to gang up on lone folks." Flashbacks of massacre of his brothers flashed through his mind. "I learned that the hard way." The strange pair began heading south. "So, young Diceon, tell me. What do ye' do for a livin'?"
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