I step forward, feeling rather awkward as everyone looks at me. Okay, I'm a Swashbuckler, but that doesn't make me threatening. Does it? Yes, I may be a daunting prospect, standing here with my dirty great rifle, black combat boots and an assortment of other nasty instruments, but I'm still me. People still continue to give me strange looks and I start to feel uncomfortable. I recognise M at the end of the room and walk over to meet him.
"What's with all the strange looks?" I ask, slightly confused. However, M is distracted by a voice from behind him and I go back to trying to get the crowd to stop avoiding me.
Swashbuckler or no, I don't want to be an outsider. That would suck.