13:
Common townsfolk are afraid of me. Of my uniform, and what it represents. It is like a second skin to me, the mark that I once held favor as a Spire Guard.
Some laugh at my appearance. I understand I am not to kill them. That this person, this "Lionheart" I used to be would never have done such a thing, and that they are free citizens, not slaves. The guards of the cities I travel to are weak, but it is not my goal to sow chaos and discord.
I allow their mockery to pass unpunished, as Theresa has suggested.
I sit now in the tavern in Bloodstone. My arrival was a success – "Hammer" and "Garth" were not so fortunate, however. They remain behind.
I do not know if this "Reaver" is, indeed, their "Hero of Skill." But, they have asked that I bring him to them, and he has asked me to accomplish a task for him.
I lingered for a moment or two longer than was necessary, outside this 'hero's door. He had apparently commissioned a sculpture from an artisan. It was not to his liking, so he dispatched of the man.
Perhaps the next one will be more obedient.
I will complete my task on the morrow. It is a simple thing: a delivery.
I will obey. There is nothing left for me, if I do not.