[center][h3][b][color=a187be]Lorenzo of Windor[/color][/b][/h3][hider=Gear]
- Three different cloaks. One black, one brown, and one lavender. (Not including a white one wrapped around Martyrdom) 
- Trusty Bow
- Quiver of Arrows, (24).
- A thick red blanket made by his mother.
- Two bones. [u][i](One chewed a fair bit)[/i][/u]
- The best beef jerky he had. [u][i](4/6 meals remaining)[/i][/u]
- Flask of mysterious beverage.
- Flask of water.
- 20 meters of fine quality rope.
- A modestly-wealthy sum of gold.
[/hider][/center][hr]
[i][color=a187be]Sweet release.[/color][/i]

Lorenzo felt himself fall towards the abyss, falling loose of Merlin in all the chaos as he could only look down in wonderment. All he could do at that point was open his arms as he felt the world slow around him. He was welcoming the idea that he wouldn't wake up from this chaos soon. What he had witnessed in the last few minutes was fantastic, surely, and what he would give to paint a scene like that. The crippled archer, mischievous trickster, noble doctor, and valiant knight, with hound and horse in tow, fighting off a pack of bloodthirsty and darkened wolves. Alas, it didn't seem likely.

After all, was this a story meant to have a good end? If it was, then Loyal's death wouldn't have happened.

Lorenzo smiled at Martyrdom before he simply closed his eyes and waited for the floor to eventually hit him. He was ready, and he was prepared to accept moving on.

[color=a187be]"I'm coming, Loyal."[/color]