Tiberius frowned, slightly annoyed with the answer but now more intrigued then ever. [color=gold]"Thank you for your help, have a nice day."[/color] he casually said before sliding the book back to the clerk. He learned only a small amount but it was definitely something to work with. The name Druth Vanarys struck him as odd, and the clerk's words only gave him more suspicion. Who was he? What was he? Where did he go? Clearly there had to be a correlation between Lady Sadronniel Aphaderuiondur's funeral and his disappearance. 

Tiberius began to theorize what might have happened to him in his head as he left the record hall and made his way to the Western Gate on Lancel. Druth was probably a council member, but that begged the question, who were his chosen people? More importantly, why had any record of him been mostly forgotten? He could have went back to Fellmore and tried for revenge against the orcs, only to meet the same fate as Lady Sadronniel but instead of being brought back, he was left. It was sad to think about, dying in an unfamiliar land and never being laid to rest in your home. There was probably much more about Druth that the remaining council members could tell him, but for some reason, he felt that he wouldn't get the answers he was looking for. He was already cautious of Sadron from the letter he received, and time was already short. It would have to wait. 

Before long he arrived at the gate to see the monster, Vert and the Storyteller waiting. Tiberius said nothing to either of them, he was too lost in thought and still slightly upset that Vert was going with them. He grimaced at the thought actually. He'd have to tell everyone about his letters later when they settled down for camp or wherever the night take them. For now, he sat upon his horse, agitated and ready to go.