[Final Warrior]

At Torque's words, Griffinhart shook his head once. "My word is my honor. My honor is my life. Those words are literal. I still live, if you call it living." He shifted slightly, adjusting the weight of his scabbards, and continued. "No promise is easily kept."

"Who cares about honor, I'm hunger, and I don't doubt you all aren't," interrupted Balthizar, his stomach grumbling. Griffinhart replied, "the freshly-dead in the forest have rations on them. They were not Daemon's, as I had suspected, but bandits or brigands of ill-repute nonetheless." The warrior's right hand came up as he continued speaking. "As for myself, I require no food tonight," and the warrior wiped his lips, under his hood, before flashing back under his black-and-silver cloak; for a split second, one could see red stains on his gauntlet where there were none before.