Pascal a fini d'éradiquer la mauvaise herbe, dont les racines l'ont frappé comme assez plat et en forme de toile. Les plantes toxiques semblaient être interconnectées. Est-ce qu'avec la bonne toxine, l'usine serait morte? Il devait en parler à l'Apothicaire. Elle était probablement plus expérimentée dans les toxines à base de plantes.
Un verre de jus frais est apparu dans son champ de vision, et l'a fait resurgir... ses habitudes. Il m'a dit merci et a bu.
Cette mauvaise herbe pourrait revenir plus tard, je voudrais prendre quelques échantillons pour savoir s'il y a un moyen de la neutraliser pour de bon. Je ne promets rien, il pourrait y avoir un moyen. Tu vois ces champignons là-bas? Ils ne semblent pas affectés par le poison. Ça vous dérange si je les ramasse aussi?
Le fermier hoche la tête, l'ombre audacieuse du bord du chapeau s'étendait jusqu'à son menton.
Pascal a ramassé les champignons. La jeune fille aux cheveux rouges s'appuyait sur la clôture pour se détendre et elle s'est présentée. Pascal secoua la main poliment et répondit.
Je suis Pascal. J'ai rejoint la guilde tout récemment. Ça a l'air d'être un bon échauffement. En fait, je trouve cette activité assez agréable, et assez facile sur mon dos...
Quand l'homme bavard est descendu de la colline Pascal l'a reconnu de la salle de la guilde. Il n'a compris que les encres de son discours, et a essayé de les puzzler tous ensemble en quelque chose de cohérent. Mable a parlé, et il a finalement compris ce qui se passait. Une chasse au sanglier.
Vous semblez capable. Je me joindrais volontiers à vous, si vous pouviez juste attendre que nous retournions à la Guilde et terminer cette affaire.
La fille aux cheveux rouges avait déjà décollé. Pascal a offert la pochette remplie de plantes et de champignons à l'homme dur. En fait, voulez-vous m'aider à porter ceci, si nous pouvons obtenir le prochain travail dans l'ordre court.
Name: Pascal Marduk
Appearance: Bristle gray hair and beard, bony cheeks and aged eyes of a deep brown. Even though tall, he is not an imposing figure, he spends most of his time hunched over. He assumed that pose naturally, maybe due to his age, or maybe because it makes him feel more on the ready. At any rate, it became part of who he is.
He wears a long brown hood that covers him as a poncho. Pockets and flasks hang from the large belt. Depending on the way he moves, sometimes under the folds of the hooded cloak the hilt of a daga may show itself.
Age: 47 Male
Height: 190cm
Build: Regular slender build.
Weapon of choice: Daga, Dagger, Venom.
Amount of Yule currently in possession: 100
Current items in possession: One Potion, and a satchel with personal effects. An old Daga, very sharp, and a flask of vyper’s venom.
Basic Skills: Athletic and dexterous. He is used to snake’s venom, and (in doses) he can be immune to it. He became quite good at playing Hex (a game of card), which is a more complicated version of the Old Maid game.
Personality: He is oblivious to etiquette or tact. But he can be very patient. He talks in a low tone, quite smoothly and with an hint of old in his timbre. He is very thoughtful and often stops talking in order to process a thought, and often talks in philosophical adagio. He wants redemption for his past life.
Occupation before joining the guild: Entertainer - Tumbler, Thief, Wanderer.
Basic origin story:  Since young age, Pascal used to work in a travelling circus as a tumbler. At age 20, he left, and joined bad companies. His acrobatics skills gave him value in the eyes of the underworld lords. He was used to infiltrate and steal items of value from rich mansions. He became a renown thief. Once though, he was charged with retrieving a relic from the Comity’s chambers. Inside of the vault though, he found a fierceful fighter guarding the item: the Guild Master himself. The two crossed blades, and soon Pascal was defeated. But Ares recognized something in him and spared his life, only to invite him to redeem his life by serving the mercenary group he was part of. Pascal escaped, probably mostly due to the Guild Master’s pity. Pierced by the Master’s words and glare, he made a vow: to prove he was better then the rat he had become, that his destiny was not to die a rat. He was 38 at the time, then he spent 7 years traveling in search of his true destiny.
One day he noticed a snake, curled up on a sunny rock. The animal raised his head hissing. Pascal swiftly tried to grab its tail but the snake was faster and stung him. In the moments of pain that followed Pascal hallucinated, and saw the snake slithering away, drawing beautiful strokes on the ground. He got up and followed the strokes with his feet as if in a dance. Then he collapsed. Luckily for him a traveller found him unconscious and healed him. They became fast friends. Lucius was the name of the traveller. Pascal learned a lot from that episode. The path of the Snake was now set in front of him: steady and majestic the snake attacks only to protect or hunt he thought, it stays invisible until it is time to strike, using the environment to its advantage. He studied the animal’s movements in his travel and its hunting techniques, incorporating them in his style of fighting. But this was also a discipline and a philosophy for him.
When Pascal joined the guild, then, he was 47, called by the same young man he once met, Ares who was now at the head of a group of people defending the world and protecting those in need. 

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