It was rather quiet that night in the Tower bar, with not too many guardians in it. That was the way the Hunter liked it. It had been a while since he had come anywhere near the Tower, or the last city. The only reason he came back was for some needed supplies, and maybe a drink. Many guardians looked at him strangely, because his armour was worn out of shape and blasted with snow, giving it a discoloured look. His cape was not made out of fine fabric, but a thin animal skin. He walked over to the bar and asked for a drink. Taking off his helmet, the Hunter was relatively young, but had seen many days away from civilisation. He had grown a slight stubble on his face and he looked a bit tanner. No one would recognise him now, but the Hunter was known as Lake. (( Open ))