They looked, a good deal of the crowd, towards the direction in which he had pointed, and they saw within the same instant that which he did. That alarm that came with it, along with the clamour of steel.
"Forgive me," came Fitzer's pronouncement, as his sword skidded down Oliver's back.
Blood was drawn, shirt was sliced, and old scars were revealed. They greeted the newcomer that was sure to join them, once that wound was healed. For when Oliver turned, with storm in his eyes, and smile upon his lips, it was indeed certain that such a wound, lightly delivered, for the half-step that Oliver had taken out of its way just before it had landed, would most certainly see itself healed.
"PROTECT THE KING!" Verdant roared. Watching more closely than the rest, his fury was true, when he saw the tainted creatures that he had led into his King's own home.
