It was painful, genuinely hurting his very bones, to know everything, yet be forced to keep it all to himself, remain silent about the undead, Agilulf Wanneck had managed to piece things together, and clearly, Fioldron Ferrcrona had been somewhat moved by his speech, though, the hard-headed king would never follow his words.
Endlessly thinking about the future, about the past, about what he could have done better, how he could have been clearer without breaching the terms of his ability, it was too late now however, it was all he could think about, to the point that he would lose himself inside of his own mind, so long that he now found himself well away from Starkefolten, staring at the fading sun and the distant moon.
'There are only three people that can be trusted to go against them, only three of them that could rival the forces of death with certainty, three, three…'
