*Mortar, leaning against a wall, looks around with his blazing crimson eyes to find the source of the voice*
What do you need me for? I'm not exactly special.
*He chuckles at that, he's used to all the people just as and stronger than him. His small frame makes him seem not as useful, but what he can do in battle says otherwise*
English
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*Mortar takes it from him and pulls a pen from his pocket. Actions speak mightier than words, but occasionally the pen is stronger the sword. Like right now, when Mortar signs the slip of paper and returns it* What do I gotta do?