Snippet #1957963

A broad grin dawned on Braego's face after Zack finished speaking.

"Now that is a plan I would drink too."

He said with a hearty laugh. Braego was beginning to like this charismatic son of the Captain. He would be interested to see how he held up in battle. Braego took a step back and leaned against the wall as he folded his arms over his chest. Braego was a warrior, in the truest meaning of the word. As far as he was concerned as long as they could hold their own in this fight to come they would all survive the day. If he had to make a wager he assumed they would be able to do more than merely hold their own but he'd never fought beside warriors of Midgard before. From he could tell Skylark had no unique abilities to call her own, merely expert training. The beast had his strength. Rogers was just a tad more than mere man. Then there was the Stark girl. Braegos eyes drifted over to her sultry frame and lingered there but a moment. She was beautiful for certain but beauty did not win battles. For all her confidence Braego hoped he would not have to pick up what was left of her when the killing starts. Their enemies will not show mercy on them and they could not afford to do any less. That meant blood and that meant death. The son of Thor wondered if the others gathered here understood that.