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Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
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I must save Carl from this trap.
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You appear at the final moment to save me. Such strange workings of destiny.
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If the boy fights on despite his broken arm, what then? He lifted his visor to wipe sweat from his eyes. Kill him? Or keep my oath?
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If we''d met in a tavern, we might have found a translator, shared ale and women for the night.He lowered his visor and raised his sword. But we meet as enemies, so what use are words? And... He eyed that miraculously healed arm. What manner of thing are you?
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