- Ronir takes a deep breath as his voice gets darker and his face grows paler than what already seemed impossible. - It was a dark and dreary day indeed. It was a foolish act to step outside the safety of our treshhold in the first place. The air was thicker than usual, filled with death and deceit already. Me and Riana were escorting this rich gentleman, fancy looking young chap he was, but a rather odd one for sure. He had heard word of us, me and Riana, providing protection for small transports and deals. He made a very big deal about keeping it all very secret. Probably because the cargo was more valuable than what was indicated at the time. - He lets out a "hrmph!", sighs, then leans his head backwards in a lashing motion, taking a hearty sip of his beverage. - Anyway, me and my sister were walking through these woods. All this time my sister told me things werent as they ought to be. She was always better than me at those things my sister. - For the first time during the telling of his tale, there's a slight smile on his face, visible only to the keen eye. - Heh, she once caught a flying arrow with her bare hands she did! True story.., ehem, as I was saying... - As quickly as it rose the smile now withers, as if it was never there at all. - We were walking through this forest you see, a wretched place it was. Me and Riana both knew it was the perfect place for an ambush. At this point the gentleman stepped out of his carriage, saying that there was a hut nearby where he had a small errand. - Mumbles something about the hut being bloody invisible. - So me and Riana were both alert and ready while stepping through those tight bushes. - There's a long pause, and Ronir fills it with a mouthful. - Alas, how right we were! They must have been a talented bunch, because without the slightest hint of a sound an arrow had found its way into the ill-fated young man's chest. Coffing out blood, he bellowed a shallow call for help before descending on the ground. He was done for sure the moment that arrow struck him, but my goodhearted sister couldn't bare giving up on a man who was still breathing, no matter how lost he was in the brutal eyes of reality. And so she thrust herself down besides the dying man, attempting to drag him under the carriage. - His temper is clearly stepping up, and his voice grows louder. - The rich fool! He must have thought she was trying to rob him, because he was fighting her off he was. I turned to the direction from where the arrow had to have been shot, and I counted at least twenty, maybe thirty men rushing towards me. I kept yelling to her, don't help the fool if he doesn't want you to! But she stood besides him as a group of robbers were preparing to surround the two. I predicted their move early on and tried to fight my way to her rescue. They weren't as skilled as I had feared, but their style was very defensive. - He pauses shortly, and his voice seems almost calm again. - This puzzles me still, as I have fought many a wretched robber and they always come on strong, using the element of surprise for what it's worth. Their defensive stance made it hard for me to force my way through that damned wall of men. I could scarcely eye my courageous sister fending off many a man, but they seemed to increase in numbers at every passing second. My fear turned into rage and raw power, making my blade light as a feather. - His tone is proud yet weary now, like a man telling of his courageous deed, woefully knowing that the deed was futile. - With a clever feint I cleaved down the biggest man in front of me, causing the others to back off with great shock printed on their ugly mugs. And there I was met with the cruelest of sights. - The pace gets increasingly higher, with a hint of shiver in is words. All of a sudden his eyes become distant, and he speaks as if the incident is happening right before his eyes this very moment. - There I behold my sister with a dagger in her heart, the gentleman lying besides her, motionless. Dead. She tries to speak and I rush forward. A new wall of men is formed all around me. I swing my sword at every man in my reach, but I.., I can't move them an inch. The fire in my hands is gone, and my sword is now the weight of ten men, pulling it to the ground, dragging me down with it. Certain I am done for as well, a peculiar sense of calm rushes through the air. I take the breath of an eternity, pulling that cooling, soothing feeling deep into my lungs, consuming it. Devoured. - Still completely engulfed by his own telling, there's a pause in Ronir's trancelike state as he takes a breath worthy of his lengthy description. For a while it's almost as if the air around him seems thinner. As quickly as he paused, he dives back into his delusion - Even the horses have stopped struggling trying to get loose from the bandits' strong grip. In the blink of an eye, while I drop my sword, I see a fraction of my sister's face through the immovable wall. Her eyes foretells death. With a last ounce of strength she utteres "th.., the gentleman". At these words the bandits seems to become weary, but she crumbles right after, as lifeless as the gentleman whom she protected with her last breath. The fire in me is rekindled as I rapidly reach for my sword... "Wait!" One man says quickly, stretching out his arm as in the name of serenity. "Leave your sword, and you may take your sister of arm with you. She fought bravely, give her the funeral worthy of such a fierce fighter." His eyes speak more of truth than any query of mine can unravel. And so I carry Riana away from there. Peacefully. - His eyes return from their journey in the skies, and are directed point-down to the earth, crouching his neck in the unmistakable stance of shame. - When I got home, they blamed me. My parents, they blamed me.