[Demortis]

A lone figure walking a deserted path. The path is covered in dust, and the trees are tall, blocking out most of the red moonlight.

“One of those nights again.” He says to himself.
The wind answers him with a light breeze, picking dust up, like it is clearing the path for him.
“Damned Orcs, wanting to pay me to take out some Gnoll encampment, so what its on the other side of the damned forest! I hate Gnolls and I for damn sure hate Orcs!” he says.
He moves to a boulder, and smashes it with one punch, try to calm him self. The rock turns to rubble and he sits down in front of it, in a meditative position.

“Just calm down, anger wont help you get to the next town. All you need to do is calm down, get to town, get a drink and find a couple of wenches. That’s all.” He reminds himself.
He regains his composer and begins to walk toward town. As he walks into town he enters the “Hanging Door” inn, a semi-known tavern in Windhaven, known for the bar brawls that break out. The man shifts his cloak around, exposing several tattoos on his body.

“Hey, I bet that’s the Ki Warlord! I’ve heard stories that he was tattooed from head to toe.” A man says.
“Hey, your right! What was his name?” another asks.
“Broken, Broken, Broken Bones?” the first asks.
“Nah, more like Broken Steel.” The other replies.
“Broken cod piece?” the first asks.
“Broken Blade.” The cloaked figure says.
“Hey, that’s right. Wasn’t he named that cause he had blocked and broken swords with his forearms?” the first man asks.
“Nah, wasn’t cause swords were broken when he was born?” the other asks.

Broken Blade, the Ki Warlord, payed for a room in the tavern, shakes his head in disappointment at the stories he hears and goes to chats acouple of wenches up, and takes them to his room for some fun.