"My name is Ransom Deviolana. In the days of my youth I lived near the city of Gondor until the orcs sacked the small village that my parents had dwelt in. Now, I simply wander the land. One of my first employers was the king of this land, and I had thought that a vacation to his lands would do me good. Alas, he has fallen in battle and some of the roudier detizens of the land ambushed me as I slept."
As he talked, Ransom lowered his sword, sensing that the general atmosphere needed a little calming. The wolve's howling seemed to have quited, though only the Valar knew what they were up to.
"Now may I enquire of your strong friend's name? If my eyes do not decieve me, he bears a certain likeness to a Gondorian knight."
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"The blood of the dead mixes with the the flowing sand and grants more power to the killer."--Gaara of the Desert
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