Well, I won't let you go back empty-handed, but I guess I kind of am. [ He snickers, despite his injuries. Each breath that he takes in sounds painful and ragged, but he carries on like it means nothing. It's because he is still alive, and if he is, then why not revel in the agony of it a little longer? ]

They're not using any real skill on someone who can't fight back. Nothing particularly special. So, I don't know how trained that they are in anything. I'd like to say they lack the experience that we have, but beating down a cripple doesn't give much insight into anything. [ Flamebringer cocks his head to the side as he offers a silent "sorry." His wish for death didn't enlighten him to his life's purpose or give any enlightenment to anyone else on the guards. ]

I'm not even a whetstone to sharpen their blades. [ But there might be something in that, though. They're aware of them; they're conscious of their anger and fury, but they're also just as frustrated and annoyed with the situation as they are. Which means this might not be a thing of passion for the guards, but just an order. Nothing that they didn't already know or glean from what's going on around them, but interesting to have a little more confirmation. ]

I was hoping to get to know you with your sword. [ Flamebringer can't help but bring that up, again, because he honestly still desires that challenge. A man can dream. ] ... I wonder... did you feel it, too? The feeling that our world is gone? That they're gone?

[ He offers him a hollow smile. ] I've lived through that loss before. I can't say I came out of it well... the person I am now is what survived. You should try to become something better. [ Really, it's the only advice and words that he can give that he feels has any merit, and it's a real piss-poor reward for coming to help him, but such is life. ]