It is 1869 and you the last in the against the kingdom of Ivor. You’re back against the tree. Rain drops dripping down your face and hair. You point the sword at the man that had to kill you in order for them to win.

“Don’t come any closer.” You said with fear as tears rolled down your cheek.

The man steps closer and drops his sword. “Look I’m not going to hurt you.” He steps closer towards you. “Put the sword down, ok?”