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Conflicting thoughts swirl in Darin's head as he steps from the Marshal's tent. Memories. Old and new. Both of what he said and what Arthur Hornraven said.
But he feels glad that he got it off his chest. That he finally confessed to the Marshal, and that he confessed back.
But Darin's thoughts are cut off as a figure approaches him in the darkness of the camp. It is a young man, who Darin assumes is a ranger by his outfit and crossbow. The ranger immediately asks in Kantonian, "You're the Captain, right?"
Darin hesitates. "Yeah… why?"
"Thank God. There's been a situation. We need ya on the outskirts. I think we found some of Rade's men."
Darin sighs. Truly, my work is never done. He says to the soldier, "Alright. Fine. Lead the way."
The night isn't over yet for the old soldier.
Next
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The young ranger is surprised at how smoothly it just went.
Rade finally gave the go-ahead. The quartermaster is to die.
And it's going to be shockingly easy.
The ranger turns around as the old captain enters through the tent flap behind him.
The tent has been specifically set up for this very purpose. It will provide ample cover for this killing. And Rade doesn't care how messy it gets.
The ranger gestures toward the back of the tent, where a desk has been set up. "On the desk. There's a report from a scout."
The captain nods and walks past the ranger. He leans over the desk. After a pause, he glances over his shoulder and asks, "So… where's the report?"
The ranger represses a smirk. "There is none."
"I thought not…"
The ranger raises his crossbow, pointing it at the captain. "Mozoroff sends his regards."
The old man laughs darkly. "Not interested."
A split second before the ranger pulls the trigger, the captain unsheathes and hurls a dagger at the ranger. At the same time, the captain drops to one knee. The bolt flies past the man's head, tearing into the tent wall behind him.
The dagger embeds itself deep into the ranger's throat.
He gasps and stumbles back, falling on his rear. The crossbow falls from his hands. His thoughts turn to panic as he grasps at the blade.
I can't breathe.
The Captain curses and struggles to pull himself to his feet. As the traitor lies dying, he approaches.
"What a waste," the old man says.
And then he stomps down on the dagger.
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