<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 Frederick, 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/><br/>A suspect trait of one Alfreic Slate was that he became acclimated to certain ideas quite deftly.  For example, he hadn't thought of injuring poor Antoine.  The chap had fallen and taken a scrape, and Hornet, being the curious beast that he was, approached the prostrated fellow, and very nearly brained him (and not because the horse wanted to, but because big animals tend to think that they are small).  But Alfreic didn't want to harm the man...  yet Antoine's reaction towards him, Kolette's absent injections of surprise and grief, and Frederick's deft interruption all hinted at an experience which Alfreic knew to not be true, but that <em>should</em> be true.  Alfreic did not know that he wanted to utterly destroy Antoine until everyone unanimously expressed it, and for a few moments, Alfreic could think of nothing else except killing that strange creature.<br/><br/>Soon rejoining camp, Alfreic tied his horse to a tree and accosted Martin for a longbow and a quiver of arrows.  He was not a terrific shot, for truly, he believed the longbow to be bestowed by the ingenuity of a cowardly devil, for what is it to kill a man without seeing them up close?  Alas, he fitted the straps over his barrel chest and adorned his left forearm with a guard.<br/><br/></td></tr></tbody></table>