As Aiden handed Jatan the spear, the wood scraped against his hand.  It was coarse, rough, unfamiliar.  As a monk, he was forbidden to use a bladed weapon.  To kill was highly frowned upon.  To kill [i]intentionally[/i], that was unforgivable.

"I…," he stuttered, as he held the makeshift spear back out for Aiden, "I…I don't want to kill someone…"

Slowly his fingers, curled into a fist, clenching so tight his fingernails cut into his hand.  He would never be as strong as a half orc.  He would never have the magical abilities of Brisa.  Nor would he be able to camouflage himself to gain an advantage like Aiden.  

He drew in a deep breath, then took a step forward, next to Argurios before continuing, "But even if I can't kill, I will fight, should it come to that."