The miserable king looked at the four of them with eyes that carried an unbearable weight of pain. He didn't know who they were, but the fact that they stood there before him, alive and unshaken, told him they were powerful. Perhaps even beings that were powerful enough to face Zerathul. But he was not very sure about that.
"Who are you?" the king asked in a hoarse, cracked voice.
Whatever trace of authority once existed in his tone had long since vanished. What remained in him right now was only the hollow echo of a man who had suffered beyond measure.
Erend looked at him quietly. The man resembled a human but he was taller, easily two meters or maybe more. His build was still strong and muscular, the kind of body that once commanded respect from all of his people.
But his spirit was broken. The strength that body carried meant nothing now.
