Nowaru

Raimar rolled his eyes, tilted his head, and rubbed his brow. “Very… interesting story.” Then he stood up, poured himself a glass of water, and drank it. “Well, you’re having a very lucky day, young man.” The head of the guard took a few papers from his desk drawer and handed them to the samurai. “The leadership has a lot of problems, and therefore, heh, I can’t send everyone to prison!” Finally, he handed him a writing instrument. “Sign this, and you won’t have to rot in prison for the rest of your days.”