(Curious)“Your name is Mark? What an odd-sounding name… But pay me no mind. It is a good name. I see by your attire that you are a traveller. What brings you to the Sacae plains? Would you share your story with me? Hm? What was that noise? I’ll go see what’s happening. Mark, wait here for me.”

(Worried) “Whew! He’s tough… It all comes down to this next blow. Mark, if I fall, I want you to flee. You must escape!”

(Exposition)“My mother and my father… died six months ago. My people—the Lorca—they don’t… I’m the last of my tribe. Bandits attacked, and… they killed so many people. The tribe was shattered. My father was our chieftain, and I tried to protect our people. But I’m so young, and our people were old-fashioned. They wouldn’t follow a woman. No one would follow me. Sniff… I’m sorry. I’ve been alone for so long… No. No more. I will shed no more tears. … … … …”