Cassius was sat down on the steps of the chapel, still in his armor, fidgeting with his dagger. He watched how the light reflected from the metal in an attempt to soothe his frantic thoughts.. As the sun rose that morning, word spread how the orcs and the city guard had successfully killed or driven out the remaining enemies, and the captain's thoughts were a jumbled mess because of it. He was of course relieved it was over, but he couldn't stop imagining how it could have gone wrong.

Maren could have easily been killed on impact as she tumbled down those stairs if she had hit her head wrong or bent her neck in a bad way. That Hellhound Knight could have easily hacked off William's head if not for his being distracted by antagonistic banter and William's quick wit. All of his men could have died easily that night, but Erik had come to inform him that, actually, his men were [i]celebrating[/i]. Nursing wounds and battle-shaken, sure, but drinking and celebrating the victory back at their camp nonetheless. It felt too good to be true, which just made Cassius more uneasy-

He stops fiddling with the dagger, instead leaning forward and ruffling his own hair in some vain attempt to release the pent up fear in his chest with a huff.