originally posted in:The New Dojo
"...It's.."
[b]...Tell them and I show them.[/b]
[i]Äbath's voice would ring throughout Abram's mind. The knight halted, split between two decisions. And in the midst of it all, he had felt a sudden burning urge for violence. As if something had set him off entirely. He could feel himself fuming with anger, yet he kept himself from lashing out at Elizabeth and Alexander.[/i]
[i]They could help both of us..[/i]
"...a spirit. A demon. A curse." [i]Abram muttered, looking down. It was his shame, a shame that he accepted as he drew his sword from it's leather sheath. The edged, steel alloy was a fine blade, about three feet in length. It could be one-handed and used in two hands, seemingly.[/i]
"...I don't blame you for your past intentions. Nor.. nor your current ones."
English
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"Put down your blade, ser. Come with us in a peaceful manner and we should attempt to cure you of your ailment." [i]Alexander lowered his blade ever so slightly, taking a step forward and reaching out with his freehand. [/i] "There is no call for violence, in our custom Gregor would have died in an honorable way. At the hands of his superior. You could be forgiven for your part."
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"...A possessed cretin just lead an innocent to death, and you would help him?" [i]Abram would go silent, before sighing, then slamming down the longsword into the earth. The sigil upon his helmet shook with a vibrant crimson energy, before he shook himself, grunting in pain before going still.[/i] [b]They will die by your hand.[/b] [i]That was all that the cruel demon would say.[/i]
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"Nobody deserves a faith such as that. To be haunted by a blackness that you cannot escape. The dojo is a worthy place to assist. And you will be put on trial to determine what is your fault and what is not." [i]Alexander stated, spinning the blade in his hand and taking another step forward, keeping the tip pointed toward the ground. Elizabeth however, stayed back a few feet in a defensive stance, eyeing Abram wearily. [/i]
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[i]Abram remained silent, as that swirling emblem of his tribulation would descend back into an ashy black color, beefier slowly turning back into it's regular grey shade. Finally, the crimson knight would release a muffled, dreary sigh from his greathelm.[/i] "...You would traverse all the way back for one such as I. I implore you to finish your quest, whatever it may be, ser Alexander. With or without my presence."
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"..." [i]Alexander fell into a silence, taking a few steps back toward Elizabeth. The two turned around and jogged toward their horses, looking back at Abram for a moment. If he was to do something, now would be the time. [/i]