I get a cup of coffee and at the coffee counter a Sardar was also getting his coffee, our eyes met and I gave him a brief smile, he smiled back and we...parted ways.If you do not know, I have a thing for Sardars and my friends call me a Sardarmagnet, cause where I go they follow or appear..lol!Well back to the story, I go to my seat and sit down on my seat and spot him seated right opposite me, I smile back and returns it, I see a glare in his eye and my gaydar starts to buzz, as we both are. ”“Migros, CAPTAIN Migros.” Kran bowed to recognise the man’s rank “You need help, His Majesty needs help. I may be able to -”“To kill some women? Oh oh? Want to fight? I could wipe the fucking shitter with you.” Which was possibly true. Migros was a fighter, not so much a warrior, but a fighter. He had learnt that what was good on the battlefield was good in a pub, or the duelling field. There is no second in a one-on-one. You win or you lose. Migros fought with everything, and he always. More

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