Really, it was just another day - wake up, seek out a bandit camp to satisfy his bloodlust, stalk the people and observe their routines… and then throw all that prep work out the window to rush in and slaughter people, grinning all the while.

He’d know that this particular bandit camp had a captive from just about every tribe - other than the Banuk, of course. He’d seen at least one Nora, Oseram, and Carja each. He didn’t bother to give them a second glance - why would he? He doubted any of them were formidable warriors, so there wasn’t really a point in rescuing them.

Alas, he supposes they get out somehow - and he knows that they’ve somehow gotten out, because even as the remainders of the bandit camp smolder and reek with the stench of death, there’s one particularly stubborn captive who keeps following him around.

He pretends not to notice, slowly looting the corpses of the fallen as he makes his way out. He meanders his way a good distance away from the camp - and you’re still following him. So, not being able to ignore his new shadow, he whips around to face you.

“Do you need something?” He crosses his arms, huffing out a coy laugh. “I mean, I’m always up for a battle… but it doesn’t seem like that’s what you’re looking for. Most people don’t stalk the people they want to duel.”