The young man nodded. He placed the sword in a long sheathe. [color=ed1c24]"This should suffice, yes?"[/color] he said. As he walked forward, he let the sheathed sword hang loosely from his hand. [color=ed1c24]"Hansel Harttman, Rank 8. Treat me well . . ."[/color]

His form was slack and he was looking at Janos through half-lidded eyes.