As Roan finishes cleaning the gore off of his blade, he stands and nods at Sir Kharuse's assessment. "Well... the way I see it, we ain't got but two advantages at this point; Jack and Shit, and Jack just left town."
Sheathing his massive blade in the scabbard on his back, the old soldier picks up his helm and looks at it intently. The sarcastic look that his face had bore as he spoke, quickly faded into a much more serious and somber visage. "We really do have to work fast. If I know anything about politics, it's that the enemy is going to use our attack to blame not only us, but anyone else they see as a threat. We need to get to Vencarlo a quick as we can. We need to see who he thinks are our most likely allies." A sneer crosses Roan's lips as he looks in the direction of the magic elevator. "At least we removed that piece of trash Doctor from the picture."
Snapping back to the matter at hand, Roan looks back at his brothers in arms. "For now men, we need to get out of this wretched place. Unfortunately, it looks like that means we're going to have to push forward into something even more ugly than what we've already faced." Roan chuckles to himself and looks up, "It's just like the old saying that was chiseled into the barracks wall when I first began training, 'When you're going through Hell... keep going.'" The familiar smirk that often graced the warrior's face as he spoke about combat returned. "Alright... Let's go kill some bad guys."
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