Overwatch — Roleplayer Guild

Everybody filed into this justice. Every soul against him. Their views of what was right must be very skewed. He didn't notice Noelle, and when she smacked him upside the head, he quickly drew his blade out, putting it's tip to her chest. "YOU!" Vincent was on the verge of losing it. He turned to her, but when he noticed it was her, his grip on the handle weakened, the blade shaking. He held his head, and slammed the blade town, it's tip piercing the ground next to the thief. It acted as a stake for his tether. "I am committing an act of justice." He said, barely maintaining his cool and serious tone of voice. Angry undertones permeated his speech. He clenched his fists so hard his nails would have dug into his flesh if he weren't wearing gauntlets. His blood was boiling. He strode up to the Feroxian. "Where has your gusto gone? You've decided against defending this man now that more strangers have arisen to help you? Hah. Shame on you." He turned to the robed man. "You think I' mind your I'm stupid enough to fight in the middle of the street? What kind of man do you think I am, hmm? Can't mind your own damn business, you want to jump in and cause more of a panic?" He walked back to the sword, and pulled it out of the ground, sheathing it. "Since you all are so willing to interject, you'll return the stolen money." He stated, as if it were a fact, and an order. "If you must know, I had already decided upon taking him to a healer. Your assumptions are a waste of my time." He hoisted the thief up onto his shoulder as if he were a sack of potatoes. ( A light sack, at that.) "Find somebody else to bother with your inanity before I really begin to lose it." He strode off with the man on his shoulders. He headed for the Blade's camp.

"So, kid, here comes a life of honest work for you. You won't have to steal your bread anymore." He said quietly. "I'm recruiting you into the Blades. You are a good thief. You just picked the wrong pocket. I knew you wouldn't willingly stop and come with me unless I beat you into a shape that couldn't run. The clerics there will take care of you." He headed out of the town's gates, and into the field, before stopping. "You might hate me now, but, I hope you'll understand me later..." He pulled a candy out of his pocket, and gave it to the guy. "Have some. It's what you stole anyway. Oh, and... don't tell anybody I was lenient on you... I have a face to preserve." With that, he walked into camp, and found a cleric to leave the man in the care of.

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The Lord of Black Flames

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