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"Vagrant! State your name!" demanded the guardsman, briskly approaching the huge, scruffy man on the split-rail fence.
"None of your concern," replied Rook Madison, a tall, wide, and muscular castle of a man who looked to deserve his given name. His wild black hair was like a mane, growing down into mutton chops and a bushy mustache. The wanderer looked threatening, dark, and miserable, and didn't look at all surprised that the guardsman had approached him. The only bright point on him were his eyes, which shone a steel-blue from behind his sunken, waxy mask of a face.
"Stand up, vagrant. I'm placing you under arrest for the good of Cedarcrest." The guardsman drew his sword, glaring at the disrespectful traveler. Sadly, Rook shook his head and hopped down from the fence as ordered, but placed his hands on his massive iron warhammer and shield.
"I'll leave your town, but you'll not detain me." Rook warned, his huge hands gripping the weapon threateningly. Instantly, the guardsman lunged at him, and Rook reacted. Swinging his hammer in a wide arc, he lifted his shield to deflect the incoming blade. The shield rang out as the sword slid across its smooth face, just before Rook's hammer hit home, plowing into the guard's arm and breaking it audibly. The guardsman fell to the ground crying out in agony, and Rook looked down at what he had done with an exhausted expression of dulled rage. Quietly, the cleric of Lliira continued on the road. He would find no home in this town either. Spreading strife where ever he went, it seemed he truly was the worst Joybringer.
"None of your concern," replied Rook Madison, a tall, wide, and muscular castle of a man who looked to deserve his given name. His wild black hair was like a mane, growing down into mutton chops and a bushy mustache. The wanderer looked threatening, dark, and miserable, and didn't look at all surprised that the guardsman had approached him. The only bright point on him were his eyes, which shone a steel-blue from behind his sunken, waxy mask of a face.
"Stand up, vagrant. I'm placing you under arrest for the good of Cedarcrest." The guardsman drew his sword, glaring at the disrespectful traveler. Sadly, Rook shook his head and hopped down from the fence as ordered, but placed his hands on his massive iron warhammer and shield.
"I'll leave your town, but you'll not detain me." Rook warned, his huge hands gripping the weapon threateningly. Instantly, the guardsman lunged at him, and Rook reacted. Swinging his hammer in a wide arc, he lifted his shield to deflect the incoming blade. The shield rang out as the sword slid across its smooth face, just before Rook's hammer hit home, plowing into the guard's arm and breaking it audibly. The guardsman fell to the ground crying out in agony, and Rook looked down at what he had done with an exhausted expression of dulled rage. Quietly, the cleric of Lliira continued on the road. He would find no home in this town either. Spreading strife where ever he went, it seemed he truly was the worst Joybringer.
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