"Such arrogance," scoffed Lord Letimus, brandishing his halberd without discomfort, "will not save you, rebel cur. Time and again you and your allies defy me. Time and again I take pleasure in observing your failure. Ah yes, how you crawl back to your excuse for a fortress time and again. Tell me Oren, why do you persist? You cannot hope to stand against me forever."
Oren gazed into the eyes of Lord Letimus, eyes that could have halted a boar in its tracks.
"I can," replied Oren, "and I shall. All I have is forever, Letimus. That is all that people like us are ever allowed. Forever. There is no exit for any of us."
"Wrong, Oren. Here, my blade shall provide you with an exit."
"No. Your blade will serve me instead. Death is no exit, Letimus, it is but another doorway."
"I see, yes...a martyr to the cause, eh, Oren? Statues and rites, folklore and tales throughout the ages of your deeds? Is that your wish? Really, Oren...I had expected more from you."
"Sorry to dissapoint you, Letimus."
"Not at all, not at all. Though I am disappointed that my adversary should choose his death in this manner."
"It does not satisfy you?"
"Correct, Oren. It does not satisfy me at all."
"Go to the Devil, Letimus."
"On the contrary, Oren. It is you who will go to the Devil. I will ensure it. I will do well to ensure it..."
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