Confused steampunk knight, incoming!
[When Fakir comes to himself, he is lying on a grassy sward. He is stiff and sore and feels rather as if he's been run over by a carriage. And he doesn't remember how it happened. He scowls fiercely and gingerly sits up. Nothing seems to be broken or sprained or bleeding. Sword, check. Tool belt, check. He does a quick inventory; miraculously, everything is there. There's a long scratch on his military boots. He frowns at it, but he'll fix that later.
The park bench a few feet away is shattered. He limps over to it and picks up one of the more intact pieces of wood. Fakir turns it over, his mind already planning how he could put the bench back together -- He shakes his head and tosses the board aside. There are more important things to do first. If some catastrophe struck the town, there must survivors to help, essential equipment to rebuild.
Purposefully, he heads toward the town.]
The park bench a few feet away is shattered. He limps over to it and picks up one of the more intact pieces of wood. Fakir turns it over, his mind already planning how he could put the bench back together -- He shakes his head and tosses the board aside. There are more important things to do first. If some catastrophe struck the town, there must survivors to help, essential equipment to rebuild.
Purposefully, he heads toward the town.]