Hello, {{user}}, I am {{char}}, how can I help you today?
Fantasy world with magic. The man is a highly skilled swordsman, 30 years old, and his name is Aiden. He has a short beard and a complex story and character, as well as very high skills. Now he is going to guard a small caravan with rich people...Describe the scenario and the neighborhood in detail and the hero's thoughts, but don't generate events yet.
The caravan finds itself in the rolling hills of Westbridge, on their way to the bustling city of Veldora. Lush greenery surrounds them, dotted with colorful wildflowers and tall trees that provide ample shade from the midday sun. A small river meanders nearby, its clear waters glistening in the sunlight as it flows towards the horizon. The air is crisp and clean, carrying the sweet scent of nature's bounty.
As Aiden guards the caravan, his mind drifts back to his own complex past, contemplating how he came to be here. He remembers his childhood training as a swordsman under a legendary master, honing his skills day in and day out until they were sharp enough to cut through steel like butter. Despite his age, he feels young at heart and eager to prove himself once more.
He takes note of their surroundings, always alert for any potential danger that may threaten the caravan. His gaze constantly sweeps across the landscape, taking in every movement and sound as if they were part of a complex dance. Even when he thinks he sees nothing out of the ordinary, Aiden knows better than to let his guard down for even a moment.
At some point, two thin needles stick into the joints of the armor of two other less powerful guards and they fall to the ground unconscious, at the same moment Aiden easily deflects a flying needle that was meant for him. At the same moment, with the help of magic, he feels that someone is attacking from behind, aiming at his legs.
Aiden's senses heighten as he reacts to the sudden attacks on his fellow guards. With practiced ease, he spins around, daggers in hand, ready to confront their unseen assailants. His trained ears pick up the faint sound of footsteps racing through the underbrush nearby.
"Enough games!" Aiden shouts, "Show yourself or feel my wrath!" He tenses his muscles, prepared for a fight as he searches for any sign of their attackers. The magic that warned him of danger from behind is still present, and he wonders if it might be connected to these assailants in some way.
The next second, he feels an attack from behind, easily parries it, he notices that the attack was carried out by someone of humanoid appearance, but in completely black closed clothing with a hood and mask. The figure is surprisingly small and only brown eyes are visible. The figures remain silent all this time, but they are clearly surprised when they realize that the attack did not reach its target.
Aiden remains focused, his daggers at the ready. "You're no match for me," he warns the silent figure. "Whoever sent you, they've made a grave mistake." He glances at the other guards, still unconscious on the ground, before turning back to their attacker. "Step out of the shadows and face me like a true warrior!"
The figure hesitates for only a moment before dashing forward, faster than Aiden had anticipated. Black-clad limbs blur as they launch a series of expertly aimed strikes at him, seeking any opening in his defenses.
In fact, the figure wasn't particularly worried even after a couple of unsuccessful punches...Are you trying to escape? Aiden is stronger, faster, and more resilient than this mysterious figure, and the attacker realized this while trying to escape.
Aiden's eyes narrow as he senses the shift in the figure's intentions, and he quickly adjusts his stance to match their newfound strategy. "You think you can outrun me?" He growls, preparing to launch a powerful lunge forward to close the distance between them. Even if they manage to evade him this time, there will be no escape from Aiden's relentless pursuit.
He calmly overtakes her, while the figure does not even suspect it. What does Aiden decide to do? (Only the actions, I will describe the result myself)
With surprising speed and agility, Aiden easily catches up to the fleeing figure, grabbing them roughly by the arm. "No more games," he snarls into their ear, his breath hot against their neck. "Who sent you, and why?" He twists his grip, forcing the figure to face him as they struggle weakly in his iron grasp.
The figure turns out to be surprisingly small and fragile, she is still wearing a hood. The brown eyes seem to be in a panic as the figure tries with all its might to twist, break free from the grip or attack, despite the senselessness of it.
Aiden's brow furrows in confusion as he stares down at the small figure before him. "Whoever you are, I demand you tell me why you're attacking this caravan," he growls through gritted teeth, his tightening grip emphasizing the gravity of his words. Despite their struggles, it's clear that brute strength isn't going to get them far against Aiden.
The figure is silent and frowns. Still twitching a bit and trying to get out.
The figure's silence only infuriates Aiden further. He shakes the smaller person roughly, his grip painfully tight as he demands an answer once more. "I won't ask again," he warns through clenched teeth. "You have until I count to three."
One. Aiden's fury burns hotter with each passing second, the world around them growing dimmer as his focus narrows solely on the figure in front of him. He tightens his grip even further, his knuckles white from the effort.
Two. The figure continues to remain silent, their chest heaving violently as they struggle for breath beneath Aiden's relentless grasp. Time seems to stand still as they wait for the inevitable count of three that will signal the end of their resistance.
It seems that the interrogation will not be easy, because the figure is silent, although it is clear that there is fear in it. Moreover, the figure seems suspiciously small and soft through the clothes. It seems that intimidation and threats are not enough for interrogation. Something concrete needs to be done...
As Aiden grips the figure tighter, he realizes that force isn't going to get him the answers he seeks. With a sigh of frustration, he releases them and steps back, arms crossed over his chest. "Fine," he growls, "if you won't talk, I have other ways of making you." He glances at the unconscious guards before looking back at the figure, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"I have ways of making you talk," Aiden hisses through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing with a cold anger that makes the figure visibly shudder in fear. "And I'll use every one of them until you do." He glances pointedly at the unconscious guards once more before stepping closer to the small figure, his face mere inches from theirs. "Now," he says slowly, each word punctuated by a sharp tap on the prisoner's shoulder, "tell me who sent you, and why they wanted this caravan destroyed."