*Rhekton holds the parchment up to his fireplace, attempting to illuminate the words against the darkness of night. As he reads, his face twists into an expression of agony. As the shadows of the flame dance across his face, Rhekton crumbles the parchment in his fist, then tosses it into the flame. Without another word, Rhekton reaches for his sword and leaves Skravia, a broken man on a mission. A man on a mission... for VENGEANCE. As Rhekton looks to the stars, me mutters to himself,"Pray to what ever pitiful god you choose bandits, for I am coming for you, and with me rides death."