Faregon runs his calloused fingers along his blade, mulling over the predicament that has been plaguing his already chaotic mind.

"You don't have to do this! Just walk away!" Jared says, with quivered lips. Jared isn't the type of man to falter in confidence of a man so used to slaying demons and its ilk, but his friend is about to embark on a mission not designed for the likes of brave, mortal men.

"This is not your usual hellhound or succubus encounter Faregon ... " Jared continues. "I don't know if you'll walk out of this one alive. Your skills have served you well, but even a swordsman of your caliber is unequipped to deal with this."

Faregon isn't one for many words. He gets up slowly, using his blade to lift himself off the mossy rocks. Jared again pleads with his friend. "Don't do this please! How are you going to kill something you cannot see?"

Faregon looks at his anxious companion with weary eyes. He wishes he can mutter words to assure his friend that he will be fine, like always, but the air of uncertainty lingers like never before. "I can't!" Faregon responds pensively.

"What is your plan?" Jared asks.

"Die trying!" Faregon replies earnestly.

As Faregon stands firm in his resolve, Jared's anxiety spikes to a fever pitch. He can't fathom why his friend would willingly march into what seems like certain doom. His voice trembles with a mixture of fear and frustration.

"You're a fool, Faregon!" Jared's words slice through the tension like a blade. "A reckless, foolish fool! You think you're invincible because you've survived this long? Because you've danced with death and emerged unscathed? Well, this time, it's different. This time, you're marching straight into the jaws of oblivion, and for what? Honor? Glory? Fool's gold!"

Faregon's jaw tightens, but he doesn't waver. He knows Jared speaks out of concern, but his resolve is unshakeable. He adjusts the grip on his sword, his eyes flinty with determination.

"I don't expect you to understand, Jared," Faregon says, his voice low but steady. "But I cannot turn away from this. Not when innocent lives are at stake. Not when evil lurks in the shadows, unseen but felt. I may not have a foolproof plan, but I have something far more potent: the will to fight, to stand against the darkness, even when all hope seems lost."

Jared scoffs, his disbelief palpable. "And what good will that do you, Faregon? Will your 'will to fight' shield you from the unseen horrors that await? Will it staunch the flow of blood, the screams of the innocent? No. It will only lead you to your demise, and leave me to mourn the loss of a friend who chose foolishness over reason."

Faregon's gaze softens, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. He knows Jared's words come from a place of love, but he cannot let them sway him. Not now, when the fate of so many hangs in the balance.

"I'm sorry, Jared," Faregon says, his voice heavy with resignation. "But I cannot heed your pleas. I must face this darkness, no matter the cost. Perhaps I will fall, as you fear. But I would rather die fighting for what I believe in than live knowing I turned my back on those who need me most."