[b]Relief from a waking nightmare Foot of the Dojo staircase 9:30 PM[/b] It was a quiet night. The remaining residents of Dojoville slept through the long night and through their long dreams. The only sound was that of wind on the trees, grass, and whistling through the debris of a hundred broken buildings. It was peaceful. And so it was, for the lone figure who silently awoke from his nightmare. He looked around, and blinked his cold grey eyes a few times. It was as if he couldn't believe what he saw. For when he got up from the old wheelchair he seemed bound too, he let out a sigh of the utmost relief. Yet...it was tinged with sadness. The figure quickly disregarded this, and walked forward a few paces. The sound of his gait was both maddening and harmonious. A soft pat punctuated with a single loud RAP of wood on stone. The reason for his odd gait was that his right leg ended in a peg, the prosthetic beginning under his right knee. His garb was odd. Flowing everyday clothes had been transformed into sturdy armor, a fabric that could resist some damage and keep its bearer alive. A cape flowed over a vest and dress shirt, and long black pants. The garb was old, and complimented the age of its wearer. The man had short grey hair that sprouted out from under a small hat, and his wrinkled and scarred hands were somewhat covered by thin grey gloves/wraps. Upon his back were old weapons. What appeared to be a staff situated next to a blunderbuss was shown on his back, the staff having the ability to fold for easier storage. Complimenting the staff was a long curved blade with a handle that doubled as a latch to be attached to the long staff. The attitude of the man was odd, if not more so than his appearance. Every fiber of his being exuded an air of grateful, if not sad, relief. He seemed an old war hero, a man who had walked out of hell itself upon the shoulders of one who thought him worthy of such respite. Thus.....began the end for a long night, and the end to an old man's dream... [spoiler]intro[/spoiler]