The door to the shop chimed open, the little golden bell shattering the stillness of the late night. A man in dirtied blue robes stepped inside. The gentle clink of buckles and armor accompanied each step. As he approached the center of the room he turned his gaze to the corner the woman sat in. That corner was the best position to tactically be in. But while the woman looked toned and well-built, the air surrounding her was that of dread. A lifeless stare and slumped frame said it all. He had been through more than one existential crisis in his life, born of horrors many had been released from by death. But it pained the man to see a warrior brought to a broken shell. Strength gave one confidence to strike out against the world. If that confidence failed... He started towards her table and drug a chair from its home near the middle of the room to her table. He spun it around and crashed down upon it, directly across from her. “You look like hell had a remodeling done.” His voice was sturdy and straightforward yet not without humor. He leaned in towards the table and spoke quietly. “If you mope around like this, it’ll dishearten the new kids. Veterans are supposed to be the strong ones”