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Message: <blockquote data-quote="DistractingFlare" data-source="post: 5101086" data-attributes="member: 86189">Claymore stares at Thorn for a moment. He seems thoughtful - almost contemplative, but when he speaks up, his voice drips with enmity."What's the matter, officer? If we could be slowed down by gatehouses and walls, would we be any good at what we do? No. Let me give you an example. There was a man who worked with The Cloak - a buccaneer of sorts, by the name of Squint. Squint was my owner, you see, back before any of us warforged were allowed to be free. Squint controlled a huge sector of Port September's bootlegging interest, but when it came time to pay his dues to The Cloak, Ol' Squint said no."Claymore pauses for dramatic effect, his voice becoming dark and menacing.He barricaded himself into the shipping office - hiding like a coward, with bodyguards and archers protecting the front gate, and leaving me out on my own. No one could get in or out of the place. So one day, Bright-Eyed Teach came up and offered me freedom, if only I could get Squint out of the office. So you know what I did? I climbed up on the roof and hacked my way in with an axe. I killed my master's guards by myself, and Bright-Eyed Teach rewarded me with a position in his crew. That's the kind of organization The Cloak is: when there's guards at the gate, we cut in through the ceiling. Nobody let me into the castle, but I got in just the same."The warforged glares at "Corporal Hedge" with disdain, and then speaks deliberately."So now I have a question for you. Now that the king is dead, who's going to have the power?"</blockquote>

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