O Vasiliás mas tis Ékleipsis
Within the echoes of the castle, a voice will be heard, one belonging to a slave, or at least, that’s the assumption. Our ears have been known to deceive us. However, some of the lesser-minded have speculated it to be the voice of our king. Those who believed such were quickly imprisoned. How dare they believe our lord to be so low as to use as much as a voice, let alone our horrendous language? The day we hear the king speak is the day the cattle will sing opera.
With those words spoken, let us kneel as we pray. As we pray to our lord, our King of the Sun, our Queen of the Moon, our Monarch of the Stars, our Eclipse, we pray for your aid in the ongoing battle with the fools who believe you to be mad, denying their own madness in the process.
Their calls of prayer are swallowed as the brothers emerge from the forest, marked with the sigil of the Scaled Destroyer. They walk to the village, hoping to gain information for their quest to the castle.














