Quoted By:
Your right vambrace, front of your breastplate and right leg are entirely red, the corpse of the sorcerer hanging limply half off the ground, your hand still clasped around their neck. Captain Verdicci and his hirelings stare at you, awestruck. You’re not sure if the slaying of an Inferni is some unheard-of feat here, or rather it was the apparent ease with which you did so. In either case, no one aside from Mikail comes to your side for a few moments. He seems heedless of the corpses, but he does give the scattered glass-flesh of the fallen hireling a wide berth. Blade still drawn and keeping one eye on the streets, your squire proffers a flask of water.
<span class="mu-i">“That’s the last of them, milord.”</span> You wave away the drink, best not reveal your face to quench your thirst until you’re well away from here. <span class="mu-i">“What now?”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“Now? We get what we came for I assume.”</span> This last sentence is directed more at the Captain than your leal squire.
The man is at last getting over his shock and stirring into motion and ordering his remaining hires to watch the street. The Captain approaches the carriage himself, sparing a sad glance for the withered husk of his crewman by the somewhat calmer horses. He checks to make sure the others are out of earshot before speaking in hushed tones.
<span class="mu-i">“That was something else, <span class="mu-g">L’Orso Tempesta.”</span></span> He offers you a deferential nod, much more respectful now that he’s seen you in action, before tapping on the side of the carriage door. <span class="mu-g"><span class="mu-i">“Forza ragazzo, ti portiamo fuori di qui.”</span></span>
[2/3]
