He froze, before stepping around the table, and walking toward her stopping when he was nearly face to face with her, less than a foot between them. "And yet your mother, daughter of a Talon of Bahamut, put you under my command. Either submit, and do things my way, or leave, and tell her to send someone more flexible. I will get to your tasking when I get to it. Heckling me on it will not increase my desire to do so faster. I am not one of your god's champions, I am not one of his followers, and I most certainly am NOT a protector. I am a killer. Which means I actually have a bit more in common with his sister than him, but I TRY to control my killing, keep it to acceptable targets, and kill those who would kill those without a means of defense. His second drew me here without asking me what I wanted. 'A broken sword can still cut, but a fixed one is better in a battle.' He is trying to use a broken sword that was trying to fix itself. You are certainly not trying to help. Where I am from, there are two types of beings. Part of the solution, or part of the problem. Which would you like to be?"