Hackman

Attempting to break apart the bridge while you were still on it seemed like a bad idea. Adelyte slammed her hammer against the wooden boards, only to find an <<Immortal Object>> error appear below her. Saved by the system, Hackman supposed. If only Cardinal would work a little harder and clear out the mobs for them as well. He knelt down, taking his knife to the rope on the left hand side. With the serrated edge, he sawed at it until it came apart. The bridge corner of the bridged dipped low, and the mobs on the other side grew hesitant. Some attempted to cross anyway. Ha

John Hackman preferred positioning himself in the middle of a group formation. It was easier to see clearly, to be more vigilant of his surroundings when he wasn't the one in the lead. He could keep an eye on both the front and the rear, available to support whichever end needed him most. Being pushed to the front (whether by choice or circumstance) always made him uneasy. Truthfully, group work in general unsettled him. Years of playing solo had made him solitary, and he was comfortable keeping to his own bubble. From the head of the party, it was difficult to tell what was happening beh

He begged their pardon for his lack of manners and introduced himself to the group. "John Hackman. Unaffiliated scout," he said, reaching out to shake each of their hands. He moved to speak on but something scrambling from the bushes interrupted him. He flipped his dagger, ready to pounce, but a flash of blue hair and a comically large hammer beat him to the punch. His eyes grew as Adelyte's warhammer crushed the many-eyed frog, turning it to a eollection of sparkly pixels. Based on first impressions alone, he hadn't pegged her as the capable type. If not for her abrupt display of strengt

Without a hitch, the raid began. Hackman the Scout watched from the cliffside. He counted eighteen players—enough for three strong teams. Almost everyone he had called on showed up, despite the obscurity of his identity and suspiciousness of his message. He made note to thank Bistro for her reliable information and retreated to a safer position. His job was done. He could count on the frontliners to do theirs. In Miremore, war raged on. The flow of combat drowned out the noise of battle. His mind was silent, and every action he took was fully intentional. A few swishes and button pre

i need to format this later Inventory: SCOUT PACKAGE Decorative Earing | T1 RARE TRINKET | SNEAKY II a silver bead earing. (3) Starter Healing Potions (Heals 50 HP) 2,000 Col and (10) Materials

HACKMAN THE SCOUT REAL NAME AGE SEX LOCATION HEIGHT WEIGHT DATE OF BIRTH JOHN HACKMAN TWENTY-EIGHT MALE ILLINOIS, USA