Salas listened to Jillian’s story until the old woman, who had healed him of his wounds, spoke sharply. He turned his green eyes upon her instead to listen to her tale. She spoke of the residents of the Anaxim Forest with great care and consideration. While she spoke, Salas was lost in his own thoughts as he tried to remember the battle that had brought him to this point. He remembered the wave of heat and then blacking out. He couldn’t remember what exactly happened though. He still had all of his gear, so that was good, and the ancient Anaximite had healed him of all ailments, except for his tongue; that was a wound no one could heal no matter how powerful the magic they possessed.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the rumbling voice of the great green dragon, who was talking about who Crone was, which didn’t really shed any light on her identity. If anything it left more questions unanswered than before. When the dragon was done speaking, Salas looked to Jillian, remembering her question, and stood up. He walked over to her and leaned in close, almost as if he were going to kiss her, but he stopped short of that and merely opened his mouth wide enough for her to see where his tongue should be. After this was done, he turned to Crone and focused his magical energy once more, causing a small gail through the clearing and once again the wind began to speak for Salas.

[i]”I followed the tracks of the ones who attacked the forest and came to Anaxim. Once there, the forest led me to the battlefield. I have no other objective now. I am merely a sword waiting to be pointed.”[/i]

Once the wind died down, Salas walked over to the nearest tree and sat against it.