WEAK!

Flashback

“Good work as usual Theron," the aristocratic-Looking man in the doorway remarked as he handed a jingling bag of gold to the mercenary.

“A pleasure doing business with you as well, sir," he replied as he closed the door, only to turn and come face to face with a lizardman, a pair of swords in sheaths behind her much Like the ones he carried.

“Lacerta," he remarked casually, “trying to sneak up on me? Figured you'd stop that now that we're mates."

Her arms were crossed over her chest, her expression far from happy.

“That was the slaver Maki."

“So it was," Theron said with disinterest as he walked across the room and sat the bag of gold on the dining table.

Lacerta's glare followed him. "You said you wouldn't take any more jobs like this."

Theron chuckled. "Yeah, refusing was a good idea too. It made him up my pay."

“That's not what I meant!" she snapped back, her scaly tail thrashing in emphasis.

“Here we go..." he remarked with a frustrated groan.

“Another Lecture."

Her expression grew from disappointed to outright angry.

“Lecture? Try interrogation and ultimatum. You killed for him, again. I can see the pleasure you still feel from it, I can smell their blood on you."

Theron leaned against the table. "And what of it? It's not like they were anyone special. Just a couple of runaway slaves who got the penalty for escaping.”

"You really believe that makes their lives worthless?" she asked, turning more livid by the second.

“The way humans use slavery is far worse than anything even dark elves do! You should be out fighting against men Like him, not accepting their money!”

Now Theron was angry.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I'm no hero, I never was! Why should I stick my neck out?!"