|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| The wind is blowing through the streets, a fairly strong gust of wind. It blows my hair to one side, and you see the evil gleam in my eyes. Slowly, I raise my sword, my cape dancing to the wind... | |
 | |  |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| ...Like a beautiful gypsy at an annual carnival. The next few seconds is but a blur-- the gleam of my blade in the moonlight, a soft swish of the sword as I pass you, blood dripping from the sword... | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| The wind has stopped and the cape falls softly to my back, resting like a delicate lady upon her lover's chest. I sheath my sword, a sneer appearing across my face. Haste********* Swordsmanship**** | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| Zzz... zzz... huh, what, is it my turn? | |
| | |
|
|
|
