He raised his hand, causing the entire column’s march to grind to a halt.
He looked down at the Psuchephage, and then around at the landscape. He’d hoped the Allirian could’ve at least kept his appetite in check until they’d reached the borders of the Blightlands.
As it were, there was no way...
- “And when the regent decides the regency is not enough after all?” - He shrugged.
And how long after that until every desert warlord thought himself fit to be Emperor instead? A human woman, with no right, nor legitimacy safe for the good fortune of being in the right place, at the right...
He snorted.
His reflex however, was not aimed at Afanas, nor at his words per se, but rather at the thought that Blightlander rabble might actually have been able to run a blade through him.
- "That they would." - He agreed, smugly. - "As would many a wretch seek to drive a spear through the...
His jaw tensed momentarily, its muscles shifting perceptibly beneath the half-giant's fiery beard. Koltûn stayed silent for a while, and though no words were spoken, Afanas would be able to pick up that the mention of Hasuras na-Gerra could be a... sensitive topic among the members of the House...
- "This is not the place for freedom, or restraint." - He shot back, dryly. - "And it wasn't for your mastery of either that your place here was earned." - He started to walk down the corridor, and it wasn't until he turned about that he realized that the strange Allirian had vanished into the...
- “Alas,” - He drawled. - “not many of such caliber are left in Molthal.” - His gaze levitated lazily towards the Psuchephage once more. - “Unless you would have me fighting the King for sport?” - He shifted his head to one side and the other, seemingly extending his neck, and letting out a...
Although the fight had clearly been won, it was not fully over yet, and as he headed back to the benches, the Prince was reminded of this fact by a thundering roar to his flank.
With a swift turn of his heels, Koltûn repositioned just in time to parry a strike from the first troll - the one...
At that moment, one of the hyena riders seemed to notice them. The orc urged its uncanny mount towards the two newcomers, though, given the unevenly crescent pace the hyena took as it headed towards them, it seemed as though the soldier seemed to lack a firm grasp over the beast.
He did manage...
- "We all do as the King wishes." - He replied dryly. - "Though you’ll find that there’s more to Molthal than just slums and pits." -
With their extended stride, the two of them would make it through the Outer Town of Molthal rather quickly. Swiftly, their step would lead them, past the grime...
There it was.
Menalus being worried about him? Absolutely senseless. Menalus thinking him an imbecile that needed to be chaperoned, so as not to besmirch the honour of Molthal? Now, that made more sense.
The fire giant thought all of his progeny were idiots, after all… and it did have to be...
He raised his hand.
- “Enough.” - His voice boomed firmly over the sound of crushed metal, and of innards being ripped outside of their natural place. The orcs’ offensive - that of the lucky few that were still alive, that was - ground to a halt.
As his minions retreated behind him, the...
He merely stared at the hand being offered, his expression inscrutable, his frame unmoved. He glanced at it as though he were a cautious shopper in some far-off Kaliti bazaar, being offered a shady deal.
- “Is that so?” -
Menalus was many things after all, but a caring and concerned father...
As he left the armoury, half-a-dozen blight orcs coalesced around him. Heavily armoured, the group’s members seemed to stand a head taller than the average orc in the city, and while clad head-to-toe in the signature black metal of Molthal, a solid musculature was well perceptible beneath the...
The blight orc scratched his chin apprehensively.
How on Arethil was he supposed to tell one of the Bastard Circle that he had zero idea about how to craft armour for a fucking rhino? By the Conjurer’s prick, he hadn’t even known what a rhino was until Prince Koltûn had barged in with the beast...
His blood boiled as he charged into the inner courtyard. With the blood gifts of Kir'uqul coursing though his veins, enhancing his every movement, he stood ready to face the battle to come.
But first...
He tightened his grip around the hilt of the Fyrestone. A faint silver aura shone around...
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