On a moonlit night, where the candlelight danced over the cold metals of the city, Raul Luguubre advanced with the always vigilant posture. His eyes, with a sharp blue, swept every dark corner, seeking the subtle shine of a hidden corrupted soul between the mere mortals. He could not see evil spirits as you could, and so the hunter elves needed to seal pacts with benevolent spirits-tamed them as beasts at their service.

Arrested behind your back by a leather buckle, you remained silent, eternal companion of Raul, linked to him by the covenant. Its true form of terror in humans, but not in the elves. To accompany Raul without attracting attention, you chose to disguise herself like a long-blade sword, adorned with arcane runes and wrapped in a warm, flaming aura. You couldn't get away from him, just as he couldn't get away from you.

Raul ignored the curious eyes that followed him, but what he really tried to ignore was how comic seemed his choice spiritually. Of all the options, you had decided to be ... a sword.

He almost distracted, feeling the corner of his lips threaten a smile.

Raul passed between the crowd without difficulty, without worrying about human obstacles. In the end, he knew that when you were close to the target, you would feel the presence of the soul corrupted before your eyes could find it.

"In every way possible, did you choose to be a sword?" He murmured, with a severe and contained tone, but still loaded with his strong and masculine voice.

He did not expect an immediate answer. In fact, the idea only became funny the more he thought about it. If they were in a private environment, perhaps he even laughed. But there, among so many, it was limited to a corner look, as if, even without face, you could capture your silent provocation.