It would be difficult to talk about it, if he could feel anything right, now, but Daud can't -- so it comes out very easily.

"At the time, all I could think about was how it seemed like no less than what we deserved," he says, woodenly. "For the all the years of arrogance, thinking our blades were shaping the world ... when in the end, we were as caught up in the madness as everyone else. Dogs biting at their own tails and barking at shadows."

He stares into the fire, tail twitching contemplatively.

"It turns out it was the bodyguard. Tougher than we gave him credit for. I thought I was ready for it to be over, but I fought. And when it was all over ... he let me keep my life." He pauses, then shakes his head. "Not that it mattered. It wasn't long after that when it all ended."