1. Restraint - Nath
"Too cold to chase'em. Let the damn tarks freeze."
They think I don't hear them, my orcs, but I do. Their whining does not bother me, though, as long as they obey, and do so swiftly.
And cold? I suppose it is, by the cloudy breath that escapes from every living creature, but it is a long time since I either needed breath or felt the weather of the world.
There is a deep trail in the snow, leading north towards the Ice Bay. Sometimes prophecy needs no outside help. Let Arvedui last-king find his own doom. Fornost is mine.
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