Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25101508-20140710153417/@comment-24530992-20140726040554

Jakarn stood unmoving at the golden doors leading into the capital of the Reach. He stared at the gates, as if he were waiting for prey.

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to move. You can't just keep standing there." A guard stated, keeping his hand on the hilt of his steel sword.

The Breton casted a glance at the guard, keeping his mask edge directly on the bridge of his nose, concealing the majority of his face. He still didn't budge.

"You're starting to scare me," he overheard, a guard mumbling slightly out of small volume. The guard sighed, sitting up straight.

"Go in, or go out. If you choose neither, we're going to have to use force."

Jakarn continued staring at the guard. A minute passed, before the Reachman guard stuck his hand out, wrapping his thick fingers around the former's upper arm.

"You're coming with me. We're keeping you in the mine for a night, just to be cautious."

As he felt the grip tighten, he silently unsheathed a dagger from his free hand, forcefully jabbing it into the guard's gut. Jakarn pulled it out, letting the lifeless body fall to the ground. He placed it back on his belt, and dragged the body behind some thick foilage. He returned to the front of the gates, where he entered the Dwarven City.