Artholath kept a stoic expression on his face, although his hopes sank a little at the doctor’s clearly less than optimal state of mind. Still, even he had to realize that to aim at a higher ambition, he would have to start a little lower… he had an idea.

“There is nothing wrong with aiming high as that… however, one step at a time. Besides, if you create beings I could call worthy brothers, I happen to know of a laboratory… one that I began my own life in…”

He was lying; he destroyed that lab with several brothers on their killing sprees. His plan was to bring the doctor to the volcano - very few knew of what it truly held, but everyone knew it was highly potent. Placing the location of the lab at the mountain would be lucrative.

Another thought came into his mind.

“...do you happen to have a certain ring? One with a small eagle imprinted on it, made of bronze?”

__________________________________________________

A few minutes had passed. The guards were cold and still; no life was seen in the area.

Then one of them raised his hand.

With one of the mysterious arrows having gone through his shoulder and another into the side of his chest, he crawled with a single hand down the road a few meters. His patrol mission wasn’t expected back for days. He wouldn’t survive by then, feeling bitter chills taking a deeper grasp on his body and, he could have sworn, his very soul.

It wasn’t a matter of if he would die, but when. He had to inform someone of this massacre or nobody would know.

He fell unconscious, barely breathing, some distance away from the inn where several others who may or may not be able to help him were located. He was a dismal sight indeed. Blood trailed from where he crawled and two large holes were in his body. The only thing that saved him was his will to continue and a stronger than usual anatomy.

As the sun set, it began to rain.