[ It's morning and the first thing Aether discovers is that Luceti has considerably more people than he's used to. So much for his plans to organize some kind of an expedition toward the sea. Rather than do anything in this crowd, he's going to retreat to the barracks and spend most of the morning practicing his swordsmanship
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A horde is a horde, regardless of style. [ He raises his hand and presses one finger against the bridge of his nose. ] My words, like my sword, always aim for the core point.
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All right, so what kind of moron rides around a town on a horse while whistling up their own theme song? ]
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...it's the horse, isn't it? ]
... who?
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