"...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."