08-14-2008, 08:19 PM
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"I have to leave," he said flatly, without emotion. The person he'd been was gone...he couldn't be that person right now, not after losing Soro, not hours from the battle. Hours from what might be the end of his life. It was odd to think...this man had killed Soro, which meant that, even though his training was out-of-date and his body was war-torn, even though his bones were old and reflexes must be slower than they used to be, he was still on par with at least mid-level GreyClaw warriors.
Asmodai had been the sixteenth seat back before this whole mess...he had been the sixteenth best fighter out of the one-hundred-seventy-eight professionals of GreyClaw. Soro hadn't been ranked among the top twenty-five, a great honor which he had missed just prior to the mission, one which he had sought to achieve upon his return. Varn had estimated that Asmodai's abilities had grown...that he might in fact be the eighth, or even as high as the sixth most formidable warrior from their society. That would remain unknown until he returned...if he returned. Would his own abilities be sufficient to stop this man? If not...would it really be such a bad thing?
"I am sorry for any inconvenience this causes you. I just...need to move on. Like I said, I'm a free spirit. I need to travel. I liked you a lot, I'm glad I gave settling down here a chance." His voice was devoid of feeling as he delivered this line. His lies were coming less easily now, his mind entering further and further into the frame for battle, a thing which he would need very soon now.
"I have to leave," he said flatly, without emotion. The person he'd been was gone...he couldn't be that person right now, not after losing Soro, not hours from the battle. Hours from what might be the end of his life. It was odd to think...this man had killed Soro, which meant that, even though his training was out-of-date and his body was war-torn, even though his bones were old and reflexes must be slower than they used to be, he was still on par with at least mid-level GreyClaw warriors.
Asmodai had been the sixteenth seat back before this whole mess...he had been the sixteenth best fighter out of the one-hundred-seventy-eight professionals of GreyClaw. Soro hadn't been ranked among the top twenty-five, a great honor which he had missed just prior to the mission, one which he had sought to achieve upon his return. Varn had estimated that Asmodai's abilities had grown...that he might in fact be the eighth, or even as high as the sixth most formidable warrior from their society. That would remain unknown until he returned...if he returned. Would his own abilities be sufficient to stop this man? If not...would it really be such a bad thing?
"I am sorry for any inconvenience this causes you. I just...need to move on. Like I said, I'm a free spirit. I need to travel. I liked you a lot, I'm glad I gave settling down here a chance." His voice was devoid of feeling as he delivered this line. His lies were coming less easily now, his mind entering further and further into the frame for battle, a thing which he would need very soon now.