Snippet #1962025

The night was dreamless for the Fighter hailing from Baldur's Gate. A symphony of snoring escaped the mouth of his tent as he slept with his head propped up on his shield and his enchanted cloak over his large frame. The cloak managed to keep him warm in the chilly night thanks to that enchantment. The sleeping countenance of the fighter was relaxed and even somewhat serene despite his brutish nature. Truthfully, the warrior had no worries to speak of. Life and death were just two sides of the same coin, one he flipped every day that he woke up in the morning. He had faith in Tymora and trusted his luck in everything that he did. It was no different that night than it had been for countless others.

In truth, while Caine felt no worries, he did feel excitement. A new day brought on a new fight and a new adventure. He was never one of those sit and watch kind of being, nor was he a thoughtful man. He lived to test his mettle day in and day out. Caravan guarding, bounty hunting, bandit cleansing, mercenary work, it was all a means to an end for Caine. And that end was to live his life to the fullest, filled to the brim with excitement and danger. He often thought of his life like the tales the bards sang. Glorious battles and honor hard won. Of course, there had yet to be a glorious battle for the Fighter and his honor tallied up to nothing more than a mercenary. Still, it did little to dissuade Caine from his chosen profession. Perhaps he would find his battle yet.

Then the Fighter drifted awake, his mind still dazed and groggy from sleep. At first he closed his eyes once more in search of slumber, as a glance through his tent flap revealed it to still be night. However much as he tried, he could not will himself back to sleep. An hour passed and he still found himself awake as sleep was found to be elusive. He sighed and gave up and instead began to stare at the roof of his tent. The light of the sun was bound to rise in a couple of hours anyway, so what was the use of sleep? A waste of time in his eyes. His thoughts lingered on the silly elves and their method of sleep- or unsleep. His bones began to itch for activity. He began to toss and turn underneath the warming cloak in an effort to exhaust the itch yet it still proved rather resilient. His hand found it's way to the the coin strung around his neck as it usually did in times of idleness, his thumb tracing the grove worn into the gold metal. Nothing could relieve Caine of his restlessness, save getting up. At least he wasn't the only one who was awake. He could hear a couple of the others likewise employed with him moving outside.

Finally giving up and giving in to his restless urge, Caine sat up in his makeshift bed. A glance to his side revealed his equipment strewn haphazardly around his tent. He collected his boots and his tunic and left the tent, making his way to the fire. As he approached, he managed to catch Brolo's comment.

"I don't punch women, Kanvergiss," He replied to the sorcerer's comment, "Especially when one can punch harder than me," he finished with a nod to the Monk. The proximity of the fire illuminated the body of the Fighter, displaying a number of scars etching his stout frame and the tattoo inked into his right arm, not to mention the glint of Tymora's coin laying flat on his chest. He donned his tunic and approached the gathering around the fire and took a seat between Brolo and Aletrayu. He held his boots close to the fire in order to allow the flames to let the heat sink into the cool leather. As he waited, he added with a grin, "The Smiling Lady favors the brave and the bold, not the stupid. I'd get my arm snapped for sure." It wasn't a fight Caine was against, mind, and in truth the Fighter would probably have found enjoyment in the scuffle. However, it was neither the time nor place for such games.

As he slipped into his boots, the campfire was approached by two more of their company. The Druid and the Assassin. He shot a curt greeting to both of them and then began to poke and prod the fire with a stick, sending billows of sparks up into the air. Then came Araina's offer to keep watch. "I'm not going to be able to get back to sleep," he shrugged, "Now that I'm already up. Sunrise shouldn't be too far off now anyway, right?" he asked.