The knight gets up from the counter and faces the young man. Boy, you don't want to know what you're messing with...
The stranger in armor pulls the blade from behind his back like pulling an arrow from its quiver. He faces the young man, standing strong showing no fear as what it seems that shadows and dark mist emit from the sword and the helmet itself. His...no...its eyes glow with what seems more crimson than the darkest of a sunset. The tavern gets ever colder, and shadows seem more dominant than that of the sunlight, though still sensing the flaming energy of the wrath inside of that armor. Well, I don't feel like making a point. This cold would be nice with my rum. Aye missy! pass a bottle down would ya? That Kraken rum would ye? If you don't have that, I'll take the Danik's Donkey Kicker rum!
The knight puts his weapon back on his back and sits a table. He takes the helmet off. His face looks awfully familiar to a few other men and women in the tavern. Whispers arose with what sounds of....Harlock...Harlock...Harlock...No, my lads. I am Sahqon Dovahkriid. I am of the Thu'um and am one with the ocean of chaos. Please, call me Sahqon, as Harlock is long gone...