The knife cut through the skin easily. He kept the pressure even, slowly guiding the keen edge in a tight circle. A whet stone lay beside him. He’d sharpened the blade just for this task, a ‘statement’ as much as a task he thought. With the circle complete he stood back, appraising his work. It felt strange, a little wrong, but he knew it was necessary. He looked to the blade again, its edge still wet. Another circle, larger this time was needed to complete the job. Torsten returned to his work; a deliberate, slow cut; the blade separating it from what lay below. This circle took longer, but he wanted to do this right. It was starting to flap loose, but he kept a firm focus. The last few inches and the statement would be complete. It fell away. He put the knife aside and lifted up his handiwork… a perfect circle of flesh with a smaller circle missing from its centre… the faded Ubersreik coat of arms still impressive despite the age of the paint. The reds were particularly vibrant. He folded the cured hide and gently placed it inside his shirt. This shield wasn’t much and it looked naked without the colours. It would accompany him on his new adventure, as would the piece of his beloved Ubersreik now lying over his heart.


Third time… that was the damnable third time the haughty man servant had spoken down to him. Torsten didn’t think, he just saw red. As the servant was passing him to retrieve the drunken Judicial Champion, Torsten’s foot shot forward, catching the man in the shin and sending him towards the ground. Unfortunately the floor wasn’t the first thing he contacted, as he twisted sideways and downwards. His neck caught a smashed glass on the edge of a table, vibrant blood spurting across its surface. The man hit the floor limply, a crimson pool spreading from an ugly wound. Torsten didn’t know what had come over him, but his vision slowly cleared… the red mist, the dark anger receding. The elf sitting at the table was inscrutable, but Torsten was pretty sure Aththananhu had seen everything. 


Until next time,

Owen