"Are you really an Evandiel?" The barbarian woman questioned with a frown as she looked at the bound Zach, who wasn't even trying to break free, though she was pretty sure he didn't need to struggle to do that.
She could not believe these kinds of words were coming from an Evandiel.
"Aren't you too soft?" She asked. There was a longstanding rivalry between Evandiels, those who held the border, and the barbarians, the Sesha, who tried to cross it. An encounter that didn't involve crossed swords was as rare as an Evandiel pleading for peace.
Zach looked at the woman for a moment.
"So what if I'm soft? Is it wrong of me not to want innocent blood on my hands when I can do something about it?"
"Can you do something about it?"
