Tonight, the rattle of chains and cackles echoed on the fifth underground floor of Brineheart's prison, where enforcers didn't dare to approach, and light never reached. They shattered the eternal silence, pervading the darkness with bony sounds.
Finger bones as thick as fleshy ones gripped the mana-suppressing bars of the third cell. Two blazing flames ignited in their owner's hollow eyes. His voice was deep, like the echo of a cavern.
"Oh, King Leoric Caelmorn, the fury that shadowed tyrants every step, the justice that crushed the demon invaders for hundreds of years, are you still howling your wife's death to the deaf stars like a wounded beast?"
Silence devoured the underground prison for a moment, the seven other cells remaining coated in silence. Unfazed, he tapped an alabaster finger on his temple.
