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Atros Tarell

Soldier, skilled but with an unknown background.

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Introduction

Looking around as he marches into camp, Atros Tarell takes in his surroundings as he makes his way to his assigned barracks, taking in the practiced discipline and care the guards practice, as well as the green tinge to the arms he sees being carefully maintained. He puts his pack to on his rack, removes the worn but well maintained iron breastplate he's worn for so long as part of the city guard, placing on the armor rack with the helmet and shield. He unsheaths his old falchion, and goes through the familiar motions of honing it with his whetstone, more out of habit and discipline then any actual need, due to everything being reissued in the coming days. -

-Upon testing the edge to find it sharpened as he likes, he sheathes the the blade at his hip, ready at a moment's notice despite being being off duty, before seeking Sarge to find out what is needed from this point -