The archer on the ground managed to focus on the katana at his throat, and lay back, apparently unwilling to test Kitsuki-sans threat. "Please." he mutters, eyes starting to regain their wakefullness again. "Please. You don't ... don't understand."<br/><br/>The door to the next room is, perhaps surprisingly, unlocked, and opens easily to your touch. Other than a tremendous circle of candles and two men, the room is completely empty. One man sits in the center of the candles, muttering to himself and drooling slightly, as if he has little idea what he’s saying anymore. His head is newly shaved, and his robes are fouled with dirt.<br/><br/>Small bowls of blood stand at the base of each candle and as the wax drips down, the blood slowly overflows onto the floor. The second looks up at you cautiously from where he is sat on some crates, but makes no move towards the katana that sits sheathed in his lap.<br/>