Moo, I missed out Defalcon
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Defalcon drank his last bit of his Carrotus Ale. He felt the bitter taste in his mouth and was oddly revived. He hit the dark grazed and graffitied table and placed his head on the side. No-one noticed. No-one cared. It didn't mean anything. He could have got out his light sabers and slashed the table into clean 32 pieces if he wanted, but no-one would care. In the Nostalgia days, the Tavern people, the oldies would laugh heartily and clap like mad. But not now. Nothing mattered, no-one cared. Defalcon frowned and got up and went to the door. He put his hood on and stared where he had to go and ran. Running away from the past mysteries. Hiding but never ever lasting.