Sell-sword

He was a mercenary, a sell-sword, a barbarian out of the forested mountains of Norumbria. A wanderer by nature, he earned his keep wherever he went by the might of his sword-arm, by his skill with weapons.

I'm a sell-sword. I make my living because I keep my word. Unreliable mercenaries don't get paid.

Bezul saw the sell-swords choose the doorway, not him, and somehow got in front of them, then desperation took control of his mind.