(nothing can compare to my character. An apparent Drunk, who claimed to be an ex fighter pilot, with a love for Corellian Ale. Turns out to be the leader of an Alien race that destroys most of the galaxy. I'm so proud. Read the discussion thread if you have questions)
Heimdall was sitting in a cantina in on Coruscant. The last major planet in the galaxy. Looking at the news, Heimdall caught the last rantings of another reporter calling on the New Republic to hunt down the Aesir and destroy them. Heimdall laughed to himself, after so much death still they sought more. They probably didn't realize that this planet was just beging to suffer. They had enough food to last maybe six months, more if rationed. To bad Corellia had been destoryed, after Alderan had been destroyed they were the only culture that produced a decent drink.
He had a job to do, protect the Vanir. He got up and left the Cantina. Walking down the street, He looked at a slip of paper. A woman named Josine was requesting assistance for a job. He had a feeling this was something to look into. Then Heimdall spotted a fight in an alley. Some poor man was being attacked by an Orkint thug. Seeing that no one else was going to help him, Heimdall decided to step in. Drawing his sword, he sneaks up behind the thug.
Deciding to finish the man off the thug moved in, but before he could reach the man, Heimdall struck. Not whishing to shead blood, Heimdall hits the thug with the pommel of his sword with enought force to knock the Orkint thung unconcious. Sheathing his sword, Hiemdall extends his hand to the man.
"Dulce bellum inexpertis."
Official Forum Expert on Norse Mythology
As Odin says in the Hovamal:
"Praise no day 'til evening; no wife 'til on her pyre; no sword 'til tested;
no maid 'til bedded; no ice 'til crossed;
no ale 'til drunk."