"Kobolds?! PAH!" Schritt spat, "And YOU... you REALLY think that some... piecemeal-armored DOGS can be the end-all solution to your problems, GIRL?!"
The man stopped abruptly... a slow grin stretching the length of his face.
"I'll have you know... that I hired the Stonelords to cordon off the area! That's right! Sol Invictus is done for! DEAD! That's YOU, bArOnNn tYcONn! And that's your FILTHY pirate companion, too!!"
Tycondrius pursed his lips, his gaze absentmindedly drifting away.
Schritt was absolutely incensed. But... whatever reasons he had, Tycon was sure it had little to do with him.
His obstinance, however, was chipping away at Tycon's patience.
The Realm was ending soon. His death and the death of all people were nigh.
...If he were to slice the rude fellow's throat open, it wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of Realm events.
But at the same time, the notion of it was... tiresome.
