he slowly gets up from his seat. his eyes focus on the shadow in the wall. he starts to walk away slowly his black robe drifting in the slow breeze coming from the door he comes to a stop just as he feels cold steel press against his throat slowly. the man holding the silver gleeming sword speaks in a horse voice. "the legion shall not be made a fool of." the sword presses slowly harder on his throat. his eyes observe helplessly.