The journey to the caves is difficult. Every movement sends a shot of pain through my shoulders and I know if I keep going this hard I may not even make it to this help. There is one positive this trip, the mare doesn’t try and hold conversation nor does she ask questions which allows me time to process and get lost in what is now my fragile mind. Right before I drift off I can see rotting corpses and my lip curls back in disgust. If she ever does speak to me I keep my responses curt and try to avert diving any deeper, I need to keep everyone at arm’s length for the time being, if I ever let any of them in. Even thinking about befriending these mortals is almost hilarious. When I was amongst my brethren I wasn’t the type for ‘friendship’, relationships had proved themselves a mere trifle, because in the end they hadn’t made my duties any easier. It wasn’t like very many were interested in my friendship as I typically was hunting and when I did return it wouldn’t be uncommon for my body and armor to be caked in blood. Hm, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that no one would be interested in me other than Samael. The thought makes me smile but the mare speaks and I snap out of whatever nostalgic trance I was in and listen.

She goes on to explain the other herds that reside within these caverns. My brow lifts at the mentioning of supremacist unicorns. I will avoid these mutant equines as I don’t need to deal with mortals that need an attitude adjustment. Once we reach the Sanctuary I stop and look at the pit in the ground for a moment before following the mare into the darkness. With each step I wince, the pain is starting to get a bit too much for me and I know I need to rest. Her head gestures for others to come, and I am overwhelmed by the amount of bodies. I turn my head towards the caver and make note of it, later I will find a pool to delve into to soothe my burned shoulders.

“I’m not the type to sit about idly,” I begin, perhaps I am being bold with my words but it’s worth a shot to press for some information. “But I am also not precisely a warrior… Does this group have somewhere a um… Assassin could thrive in? Even if it’s simply duties that require stealth… I am a creation intended to be used.” Assassin is not the right word, but it’s the best way I can put my former duties. All I want is purpose, no, all I need is purpose. I was created to have purpose and a duty, not to simply ‘enjoy life’.

"blah blah blah"