The guard's head snaps back in terror at the sight of the Exile. "Demon!" he exclaims, dropping his sword involuntarily. He begins to pray a ward, clutching the talisman to his lips. "No one shall fear who stays on the path or clings to the pillar of righteousness…"

Your Exile steps up to the man, fully a head taller than him, and reaches down. The man holds out the talisman to ward him off, but the Exile simply snatches it from his hand and, with a quick twist, snaps it in two, tossing the pieces to either side of the bridge. "If I were a demon you would be dead by now. Call me that again and you'll find out what I really am." The guard stops praying, but is still visibly shaking. "You have seen these scars before?" The Exile continues, tapping a fist to his own chest. The guard nods. Turning away, the Exile looks at you. "The tribe are here."

It takes some time, but without the Exile's gaze on him and with some reassurance, the guard composes himself.