Aksel Marillion stepped through the nearly empty tradeguild halls with one echoed boot step after the other. Another dull meeting, another evening of staring at those wretched creatures. The worse was Tuvault though. And of course he was, betraying his friendship for the sake of money was bad enough during the troubled period of Aksel's recovery from the battlefield. But he stole his wife too. Stole her and still had the gall to smile at him and pat him on the back like her cared for him. Like their friendship meant no less than ever.

It would be so easy for him to gut them and tear their hearts out as they had done him. Wasn't his wounded pride and the loss of a limb and the tragedies of his brothers enough for one man to bare? It wasn't just a passing thought either. No, Aksel's shadowed heart dreamt about it, visualized it, some of them of even how to do it and get away with it. The other treacherous chair members of the tradeguild were no safer from his violent rage, bottled up behind the mask.

To be honest, he was feeling better than normal today. He'd had several pleasant meetings with new faces and even got himself intoxicated with the high General and a Captain at Arms. There was more to distract him from the drudgery of living lately. Even the King seemed quite pleased at the prospect of having a man of his personal court on the tradeguild board. He was seen as something useful. That was more than Raegnold did after his return to duty.

"Ah! Marillion. How are you today?" Maxif Tolrey. One of Tuvault's higher ups, who handled some of his land ownings in neighboring towns. Young and so full of himself that the extra weight he packed on his belly had to be comprised entirely of his own ego. Needless to say, they weren't on speaking terms usually.

Aksel ignored him, stepping passed him without so much as an indicative nod.

In hindsight, might have been better if he'd attempted to be slightly more cordial, as the cocky bastard quipped a remark filled with venom. "How's your wife?"

The retired soldier stopped dead. Fury burning in his eyes as he stared toward the giant double doors only a few more yards away, the exit that would lead him away from this godforsaken building. He's taken worse jeers before and he was going to let this one slide off his back as well, the foot sweeping to continue his trek.

It was short lived.

"Ah! I'm sorry. I forgot she's not been home in a long while. I guess it's hard to hold onto a woman when you've only got one arm, eh?"

There was no thought, only the speed of a soldier who had spent far too much time in the practices of war. The metal shoulder rammed the smaller male into the hardwood wall, an explosive boom reverberated down the halls of the tradeguild from the force of the blow, blood leaping from the merchant's mouth. "Just leave me... alone." The dark sinister glare dug into the fearful trembling pain of Maxif's eyes. He didn't dare say anything more, his body tensing in great pain. No sooner as Aksel removed the pressure and continued his heavy gait toward the door, Maxif fell to the floor in limp clump of agony.

"Hold right there!" yelled a guard, stomping metal boots quickly down the hallway at the fastest pace his armor would allow, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Let him go." came the voice from a nearby open door, the thick white beard of tradeseat Harenson being stroked like a cat. "I'm not in the mood to be cleaning up the mess that would be left on the floors once it gets started."

The clang of large wooden doors closed behind the tall wheezing Commander, the man heading home after yet another long day.