Medieval Realm » Places

         Crispin would choke back a snarl at the sight of the poor slaughtered stable boy, he struggled to read the man's dark eyes in the waning light, what was said of arrogance and wit but a memory, thought it had been said mere seconds ago. To behold such a sight, reminding him of the cruel world. His knuckles would crack with the ferocity in which he grasped the hilt of his sword, and his mind obscured with a bloodlust for any man that would slaughter a child Crispin had once saw smiling about the village, making the most, of a most miserable life. And to think Garth willing to with hold the name of his employer. He would hesitate a long moment, to long a moment.

Finally he would calm, clearing his head of the impurities of recklessness. But without further hesitation or thought a name would roll from his tongue, "Arx Gaspier." It was the name of a man he killed a long time ago over a small blood feud. Though it was a lie, Crispin's face showed the uttermost confidence about the answer. His body language noticeably rigid as his clasp of the hilt faltered and then receeded.

He would momentarily consider paying for the information, or at least trying, he couldn't dismiss that Garth may or may not be telling the truth.. The throat was cut, but not at the angle a vampire would attack. As if it was one small stab to the throat, no further damage that Crispin could see upon further inspection. "I ask that you make damn sure his parents are notified.. You would want to know if your child was slaughtered with a sword by some unwieldy murderer." He knew not if Garth was honest, perhaps the vampire had cut the boy's throat and collected it rather than from the source sucked the blood. Or Garth was covering his own tracks, or those of someone else.

But without a doubt he knew he would fight this man eventually if not in this moment, it would be soon. He would show signs of frustration pulling his sword hand away to run it through his hair.

((Merry Late Christmas.))