Where was this lord when his territory was being destroyed, his citizens being eaten?
He was drinking tea in his room, very leisurely, far in the center of the territory further enclosed by a level 3 stone wall with a decent amount of sentries.
The handsome middle-aged man with sharp features looked out the window of his room, overlooking the people running around, trying to fix themselves with odd satisfaction.
He oozed with a mature man's charm. However, his expression was odd. He seemed leisurely and happy as he sat there but… he was looking at a tragic sight.
More accurately, he couldn't see what was happening outside the inner walls, but the screams echoed and the smoke and dust told him chaos had ensued.
Amon Fargo always loved—relished in—this sight: a bit of chaos, a swipe of passion, and a dollop of despair.
