Dagramir

Wandering through the markets of Bree-town, Dagramir perused the wares with keen eyes. Scoffing at the brazen proclamations of "The best swords in all of Eriador!", and stifling back laughs at the weird and wonderful items on display of the stalls of Bree. He took in the fresh air, hands clasping comfortably behind his back as his mind would drift to memories of old.

"Can't I at least get a kiss?"

Dagramir would protest as he was persuaded, half-naked, towards the ajar window of a Bree-town house. First floor. Bedroom. As to be expected. The bare, young woman whose name he had forgotten amidst the heat of passion would have only giggled, before continuing her efforts to remove him from the premises, handing him his boots and shirt that had been rapidly discarded the previous night. Rays of the dawning sun beating against the glass, illuminating the scars of his back.

Another day had passed and I still haven't seen someone. It had made me worried though what happened during the time spent at Bree did not make anything better.

"You killed them, Dagramir. They're dead because of you. Look back at all the rotting corpses you left in your wake. You deserve to die for the things you have done. Yet you failed to even kill yourself. Do you hear their screams, 'Black Viper'? Do you?!"
 

A breath.

One single, raspy breath. Something Dagramir never thought he would feel the sensation of ever again. Air penetrated through the dust and ash that covered his face and occupied his mouth, his head wretched upwards as he attempted to cough out whatever residue remained in him. Taking a few moments to stare upwards through the cracks in the rubble that covered his body, he saw something he never thought he would see again either. A bright blue sky. White clouds drifting across his view. Was this heaven? He was not sure, though he certainly felt like hell.

The flames licked higher and higher through his home, a searing heat arose from it all, embers burning at his eyes, but the lone, dark-clad man who stood in the center of the hall, stood fast. He would not have appeared to move, as the burning whirlwind whipped closer to him, nor did he seem that bit fussed. Dagramir stood, encircled by a rising wall of fire, one that he could not have even hoped to have escaped..

But that was never his intention.

The Viper sat above Bree. Much like he always does. His legs swinging from the rooftop he sat upon, his eyes scanning across the skyline of the town. Yet, somehow, unlike any other day where he would waste away simply watching the world around him, he felt incomplete. He sat there, in simple thought. And he had a lot to think about.

(Most taken straight from RP in-game)

Dagramir would creep silently across the rooftops, his black shadow matting with the darkness of the skyline, creeping up on his objective. He would pause atop one of the buildings, the house in question staying firmly in his gaze. He would stay perched atop the edge of the roof, before sliding to the side and descending to the stone floor below, deeming it safe.