An armored man, riddled with cuts metallic parts, appeared before the Crescent Hunters. Glancing the sign for a bit, he reached for the door, dirtied the knob with dry blood, and opened it. In slow moments, he turned his head to each direction, before eyeing the clerk corner. He went over there, waiting for an greeting from one of the leaders of this establishment. The scent of the Guild dropped in quality. He was carrying a foul smell, as flies, attracted by it, flew around him. Such foul smell felt like he nosedive a pile of body, as wet fluids, blood, dripped from his robust, black armor towards the floor as he stood still for a moment. The helmet, that covered his face, had a many cracks, in the middle, appears that a giant ax slammed onto it.
"Is the Guild opened?" He spoke in a flat tone. His voice was soft, but the words he spoke came out rough when he finished his sentence.