MORGAN
They won't stop our evolution.
Who do you think we are?
Who do you think we are?
Someone with training prior to arriving was always a good choice for the Shields; new techniques, different ways of thinking and skills already developed. Morgan smiled as she looked over at Aisha, thinking that in some ways she was reminded of a younger version of herself; young, wanting to fight and defend, passionate about what she did. Years of maturity and hardship had taken away her desire to be on the front lines quite as much as she once had been, but if Aisha continued to show an aptitude for it, she could go far quite quickly.
"How long have you been training? You can't be older than 25." She guessed, looking at the girls young face. As she got older, Morgan found that everyone below 30 was looking painfully childish to her now, but she knew that in Caido, people often had to be capable beyond their years at a very young age.
As for threats, Morgan tilted her head from side to side, eating a mouthful of her lunch before speaking. "A lot of the day to day work is simple; splitting up fights in the bars, helping merchants with thefts. Sometimes, a more serious threat comes along..." The casual air all at once blew away, her face suddenly becoming cloudy as she looked out of the window, her fingers growing tight on the bread she held. "I should be honest with you. Our last guards, before the ones we have now...all died in the same battle, against a cult attack on the gates. I was Captain then, and I failed them. There could be threats of that level again."
"How long have you been training? You can't be older than 25." She guessed, looking at the girls young face. As she got older, Morgan found that everyone below 30 was looking painfully childish to her now, but she knew that in Caido, people often had to be capable beyond their years at a very young age.
As for threats, Morgan tilted her head from side to side, eating a mouthful of her lunch before speaking. "A lot of the day to day work is simple; splitting up fights in the bars, helping merchants with thefts. Sometimes, a more serious threat comes along..." The casual air all at once blew away, her face suddenly becoming cloudy as she looked out of the window, her fingers growing tight on the bread she held. "I should be honest with you. Our last guards, before the ones we have now...all died in the same battle, against a cult attack on the gates. I was Captain then, and I failed them. There could be threats of that level again."
Fight against your execution.
Who do you think we are?
Who do you think we are?
