Her eyes were merciless and cold. Tar could see his death glinting off the tip of her halberd. This accursed island would be his end. The fury of Osi, Tar the untamable, had been beaten.<br/>The thought of surrender sickened him. Tar had never bowed to anyone, not once. The day of his death would be no different.<br/>The world was starting to swim at the edges. The trees and grass blurred into a quivering mass of green. The face of his opponent, haughty, and impassive, came into sharp focus. Those damned eyes burned into him, looking through him as though he were nothing. Tar only had two regrets. The first was that he would never live to see the Red Band conquer the lowlands. The road ahead would be hard for them, but they would carry on.<br/>Tar's second regret was that he was going to die at the hands of an arrogant, high borne, tramp of a knight. How dare she look at Tar with such disrespect? How dare she ask for his surrender? Tar would die this day, but he would make sure that it cost his killer dearly. He lunged at her with all his strength. He no longer cared to protect himself, he no longer needed to. All that mattered was claiming his twin prizes. Tar was going to the far planes of hell, but he would take her eyes with him to the pit.