All seemed quiet as Arthasdir sat still, watching Sparrow sleep, who had her head resting against his shoulder, He would smile for a second as he though over what they had promised each other, he would slowly twist, trying not to wake her as he pull the bed roll around her body. As Arthasdir turned to look out from their grassy spot, he would think of how the land before him seemed to grow calm and still, he did not know if he was in some half-conscious dream, but it was almost as if the land rested as they did.
The pair had chosen to leave the inn, as Sparrow wished to sleep under starlight. They were both tired and weary, Sparrow more so as she had sustained harsh wounds. Once settling at a sheltered overlook, a large Elm tree hanging over them, they spoke with openness which for Arth at least, was an untreaded experience. He spoke for a second of his time as a guardsmen, abd ge explained some of the business he had attended to before they departed. It was the subject of that business that now troubled his weary mind.
The memories of the day he left his old company and embarked into the wilds, flickered in his mind like a picture lit by the short lived flames of a fire. Arthasdir looked down once more upon the sleeping woman before turning towards the expanse of land, closing his eyes and allowing these images to grow clearer.
In his mind he would see a passing image of the exterior of the hall of The Eagle Guard before traveling with a single blink to standing, within his own body in the porch of the hall. The smell - he remembered the smell, it was like the scent of an orcish corpse but somewhat different, so strong that it he could taste it upon the air. He would cautiously step through, standing at the main door to the central hall, dagger instinctively finding its way into his grip. What he saw there is one of the two images which have flashed in his mind since that day, like a jester taunting him. There was few spots on the floor of that hall, upon which no blood had been spilled, almost all of the guard lay slain around him, blood covering the floor like a sea and splattering the walls like waves braking against a rock shore. Arthasdir staggered forwards, struggling to breath, let alone stand, he would then drop his dagger in shock as he found the main source of the stench that filled the air. Before him lay a body, face down in the fire pit. Most of it had been charred and burned apart from the brown leather armour that covered the corpses' back. Arth knew from what remained, who the corpse was, Torrigan, a dear friend and captain of the auxiliary guard. Arth could not bare to stay, observing the embers slowly consume the corpse. He ran towards the stairs that lead to the office of the head of the guard. Arth's mind would blink once more, now he stood, observing the second image to haunt him. He was within the office of Isilorbor, starring at the desk before him. Behind it sat the corpse of the master of The Eagle Guard, his own sword pericing through his body and into the chair, keeping his body upright. In his hand would be a dagger covered in blood, his head would hand limp, as if he was reading something on the desk which he sat at. As Arth slowly moved around the room, he would see that, upon the desk there was what appeared to have been written with what looked to be a finger dipped in blood, a message, "One man's actions have consequences upon both him and others".
Suddenly Arth would awake from his thoughts as he felt the cold touch a steel wresting in his hand. As he looked down, he would realize that while blinded by his thoughts he had drawn his dagger, clenching it tightly between his hands. He would shake his head a little, casting away his thoughts before resuming his watch over the sleeping Sparrow , eventually falling victim to his spent energy.
