The group sat around a campfire in a field north of Bangor, six in all. With Sen and Sai, the twins, wrestling in the grass nearby, Ryan cooking something smelling vaguely like dirt, and the girls trying to sing along to the tempo Feint laid out with his flute and mandolin, they were a the very image of happiness. Here, no one had to worry about the dangers of the fomors, the troubles of the world, nor those whom they hunted. Even the nearby animals were calmer here, a bear dozing nearby and a small group of wolves swaying in the breeze, but the peace was shattered as quickly as the music when an approaching torchlight appeared, accompanied by the clanking of armor.
Feint rose quickly, dropping his instruments. "Halt!" he called into the darkness, "who goes there?" The answer came quickly, in a deep male voice. "We are just searching for food and a foreigner."
"Who might that be?" asked Feint.
"We search for a traveller who calls himself Feint, by the order of Sir Rinche, our lord." Kina began to rise, but saw Feint stiffen, and decided to wait and see what happened.
"You're looking at him." Feint replied curtly.
"Ah, excellent." At that, the group stepped from the shadows, revealing themselves to be one of the paladin order's elite units. "We've come to enlist you. Your accomplishments have travelled even to the ears of those near Emain Macha. Killing a bear with nought but your hands, slaying many a werewolf and even bringing down one of the mighty golems. The order could use you."
To everyone's surprise, a dark chuckle began, and it wasn't until it evolved to full-fledged laughter that anyone realized it was coming from Feint. "I'm sure they could," he muttered, and Kina saw even without a view of his face that this Feint was different, not the fun loving man who had played a tune a moment ago, "but do you really expect me to take this offer? The famous paladins, saviours of Errin," and now there was hatred in his ever-rising voice as he circled the paladins, his movement wolf-like, "protectors! Protectors who would burn an entire village, just to kill a trio of innocent old ladies who sold goods to travellers. Who would hunt down a little girl's entire family because of a long-forgotten debt, only stopping at her when she ran crying to your 'lord'!"
By now the leader of the group seemed to have shrank. "There's still the status..." he said meekly. In a flash, a pair of blades slid from the sleeves of Feint's black robe, and in one deft motion he was in the group and two paladins suddenly lost all feeling below their waist, before collapsing and dying. Before any could react, he swirled and beheaded a third paladin, his blood hissing as it sprayed into the fire. Kina watched his gruesome dance in awe and horror, yet feeling exhilarated as well. The remaining paladins started drawing their swords, but one got a razor-rigged boot across his neck before he could unsheathe, and collapsed. Two got their swords free and began swinging, but they were no match for Feint's twin blades, and their screams split the night. When there was only one remaining paladin Feint turned, and saw it was their runner, a lightly armoured courier for the order. He stood there shivering with glazed eyes. "Can't leave without a reply, eh?" Feint asked, breaking him out of his trance. "N-n-n-no sir!" The paladin muttered through shaking lips. Feint pulled a cloth bag from his gear and went to the paladin who'd lost his head. He stuffed the head in the bag and handed it to the messenger, who stared at it like the plague, but accepted it nonetheless. "There's my reply. Send Rinche my regards." Once the man had vanished into the darkness, the blades fell from Feint's sleeves and he dropped to his knees, then toppled sideways.