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"When I saw the poor tortured souls of my friends trapped in those ghastly bodies, I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear to let my friends suffer another moment. Hesitation is not something in my character, when I see something that is wrong I do whatever it takes to right it as soon as possible, and that is what every knight of order of the tiny sword is taught to do," Ghzarbanan explained.
He wiped the ghoulish icor off his tiny blades and then reseathed them. His arm was healed but the chain mail over the wound would have to be repaired. Ghzarbanan set out to gather the neccesary materials to repair the armor.
"Do you know where I might find some spare steel that I could repair this with kind sir?" Ghzarbanan asked Magnus. "And maybe some polish, my armor has grown dreadfully dirty over my travels, and I have been neglecting cleaning it due to my sorrow over the loss of my order, my god is not pleased."
[ 07-18-2002, 08:49 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]
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Now the swinging bridge<br />Is quieted with creepers. . . <br />Like our tendrilled life. -Basho
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