You're in over your head. I've been there. Hell, I'll give you each 100 gold to head to Suzail and figure out a real line of work.
One that won't get ya killed by old men who've seen enough shit to clear five [kids] without sweatin'."
There's a lingering silence between them,
One that won't get ya killed by old men who've seen enough shit to clear five [kids] without sweatin'."
There's a lingering silence between them,
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Even a blind man could see in Tarkith’s confidence that he would not be defeated, not without cost.+
Then a figure dropped, the glint of two blades catching in the light that snaked through the canopy above. The youngest of the group caught the blades in his back, a gasp +
Brash leapt, pushing off of the man’s falling corpse as he grabbed onto another man, slicing his throat and spraying crimson forward and onto the back of his friend who turned, hollering in surprise. +
Brash had become death; a blur of knives, green, and crimson.
Instead, with one left standing and unscathed,