As Sgard left the hall, his footsteps echoed in the quiet chamber, a reflection of the heavy burden he carried in his heart. His face was shadowed with pain, a mixture of guilt and anger boiling within him.
His father, Jarl Daus, watched him go, the realisation dawning that he had underestimated the toll these events had taken on his son. Even if he was weak-hearted and not strong like his brothers and sisters, he was still his son, his child.
Daus's shoulders sagged, and he turned back to face Belan and Jolthar, his expression weary but resolute.
"I won't pretend this is easy for me to ask," Daus began, his voice low but firm, "but I need your help. The tribe can't face this terror alone. You both are outsiders—strong, resourceful—and perhaps you'll see what we cannot."
