"For a King's son, it is not odd that this is the first war he is partaking in?
And here, his own mind was the battlefield and his thoughts his weapons."
~
The Northern Factions of Darkness,
Underground Oubliettes of Slavery,
The Kingdom of Hyll-Decanta,
Darkling hours of Eventide,
Second Wednesday of the Second month,
Fiftieth Year of the Reign of King Adon Vericus IV
Michavel Ryder ran his hands through his blond hair that was damp with sweat. It was going to be a difficult situation to arrange for her release with their circumstances. He had inquired of the sentries that were standing guard to the Cell, to find if they possessed the keys to the lock that hung at the doors to the imprisonment.
He knew they held it, but the men did not divulge a word of their charge over the authority to access doors.
