<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://www.dfwd20.com/photopost/data/522/medium/Human_Fighter1.jpg)</td><td><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: edwardian;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 2.65em;">Alfreic Slate, Soldier</span></span><br/><em>To Antoine, Accompanying hunters M. Dupont, R. Dupont, F. Martin, K. de Brest, I. Motague, Sylria, A. Browley, I. Campbell, L. Montague, Bella</em><br/></strong><hr/>And at that, Alfreic seized his horse's reins and spun it around majestically in a forceful show of horsemanship.  Alfreic's eyes were like those of a devil, and his mouth was taut with the grimace of a man who means business.  Though the horse did not have the means to, he seemed to roar, and his mighty hooves shook the ground as he stomped restlessly.  Antoine had plucked a string-- but do not think that this was Alfreic when he was angry.  This was Alfreic when he smiled.<br/><br/>  "Madame or sir, whatever you may be, you must think very highly of yourself to think that you should be my prey.  Or perhaps you think very little of me that I should kill someone simply because they annoyed me.  I assure you that you mean very little to me, at least to the degree that I should not wish to make you in two with my spear.  Alas, though I can hardly stomach your absurdities, I have been blessed to know men who are even more absurd than you, and some yet breathe."<br/><br/>Something in Alfreic's face twitched, and it appeared that something bothered him about that last sentence, but Alfreic left it in the ether, and he turned his horse about and continued to the camp.<br/></td></tr></tbody></table>