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Well, the days wore on. Scorpio came back, as did Aaron, a deserter. Both were locked away until Gomez found a use for them. Then came this fateful day. It will be etched into my memory as long as I live.

*

Arto and I were in our respective quarters when there was a tumult downstairs. I thought Bartholo had tripped over the slave girl again or something, so I ignored it. Then there was another crash and the sound of swords ringing. Since I live just above the throne room, I decided to make sure it was Gomez who was doing the ass kicking. Arto ran out at the same time I did. We looked at each other and for a moment our thoughts were synchronized: Protect Gomez.

We ran down the stairs and reached the throne room. There lay Scar, bleeding to death near the dining table. This big plate mailed brute was standing over him, holding a rune in one hand and the biggest, meanest looking blade I've ever seen in the other. Gomez was nowhere in sight. Scar and I, while not the best of friends, had a kind of bond that was slightly disrupted by his death.

I drew my sword and charged the stranger.Arto was the weaker swordsman, so I attacked first. The guy arrogantly sidestepped my attack and blocked Arto's. I was lucky I charged passed him. Arto was closest, and felt the sting of the evil blade. Blood exploded everywhere... then the stranger turned his attention on me.

I remembered him from somewhere. He had a weed delivery...or maybe I had given him a quest. Either way, now he was my enemy. We exchanged blows. I gotta tell you, that sword hurts!

So we were locked in battle, his blood staining the ground, neither one of us able to gain a descent advantage on the other, when Gomez walked in. He started yelling at me like it was my fault everything's going to hell. "Come on, Raven! He's only one man! Must I do everything myself?"

He shoved me out of the way and started taking the stranger on. If it were any other day, I probably would have helped the poor bitch. As it was, I was already bitter. Landing in a pool of Arto's blood didn't help either.

Yeah, you kill him," I muttered with hate dripping on every word. I sheathed my Right and walked out of the castle, not really caring for the sounds of battle behind me. As I reached the entrance to the Outer Ring, I found the gate closed and locked. Thorus was unconscious by the gate, his awesome two handed sword discarded in the dust. A real shame...

There was a group of warriors pounding on the gate, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I rallied the survivors from the Inner Ring, and we began discussing what to do now. Just then I saw a surge of men issue from the barracks. The prisoners had escaped. I led the guards to fend off the rabble. As we neared the group, Aaron leapt at me, smacking me with a hamstring bone. I collapsed, ashamed at being beaten down by a half naked deserter armed with the remains of a former cell mate. Clutching my face, I opened a gash along his back with my Right. I don't know if he survived. I could care less.

I half-heartedly led the guards against the prisoners. Now for some reason, Skip was furious at me. He backed me all the way to the blacksmith shop where I circled him, confusing him enough to get an advantage, and then pinned him to the table of his former shop. Stone rushed me, and I knocked him aside.

I would have rejoined the battle, but the death of Skip and the beating of Stone was enough for me. I stole off to the shadows of Innos's temple. I had a makeshift memorial for the dead mages. I walked around a bit, making sure not to get the attention of the stranger, who I had dubbed Schwertmeister. I decided that maybe, joining up with Gomez wasn't the best decision I had made.

I caught sight of a few of the slave girls as they stole out of the camp. Why not let them go? What harm could they possibly do? That's when I was confronted with my decision.

*

I have no home now. The Schwertmeister will find me eventually. The only options are to try and join one of the other camps, confront the stranger, or take my own life. What would the honorable thing to do be? Well... facing my fate like a man of course. Or would it?

Perhaps I would save myself the humiliation of being killed by a terrorist by taking my own life. What do you think?

Wait, what was that? I think he's gone. Sounded like a teleport. Maybe I'm safe now... yep, no one here but me, corpses, and you. Well, my Right, what do you think? Not much left for me now, huh? Only one option: To become one with my blade, become one with you.

It won't be so bad, just raise it up, point it at my stomach, and jab. I've done it a thousand times before: raise, point, jab.

I've made up my mind: Weapons don't kill people, people kill people. And people kill themselves, too.

The End

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