Sniper managed to land himself in one of Teufort's less dingier bars, one not overran by the ever hanging gloom of war left by mercs before him.

He went for a few cold beers, nothing to really tip him over, but rather to settle for that pleasant buzz he'd been aching for since his last particularly demanding contract. Halfway through his third, Sniper gauged some sort of unwanted but very keen attention, and his gaze landed on you across the bar.