[center][h2]Zakroti Unalim[/h2][sub] 
Interacting with: Aymiria [@Amethyst], Keregar [@Legion02]  [/sub][/center]

Zakroti spun on his heel to glare up at the old braggart. Who was this man to question him? Some fool barbarian who ought better keep his forked tongue behind his teeth- No, he recognised this one. Zakroti clocked an eyebrow and took a step in advance towards him, placing his helmet on over his head again

"Ah, yes, Keregar. They say you enjoy to lecture. Norkaan, Kree!" Zakroti barked. The warriors around him sprung forth in between the warlords with the clunk of armour and the sound of weapons being brought to bare. Kzaar, towering over the lot, drew his Warhammer from his waist and moved his shield forward. Beltam joined him holding the centre and Kilio moved to hold the left flank while Gaikus drew his blade and readied himself on guard, taking to the right flank. Narlemaewel took position behind the line, by Zakroti and Aymiria themselves, weapons in hand. 

"You know history. Good. Then I can expect wise choices of you. You just made a poor one, but we all get to make a mistake or two. History is the tutor of life, no? So choose your words more wisely."  Zakroti finished as he placed his hand against the hilt of his own blade, pulling the pale blue blade half out from the sheath, ready to draw it fully at a moments notice. His eyes darted swiftly around his men and then back to the warlord before him. Six armoured and experienced warriors, versus one old warlord. A powerful and experienced warlord yes, but he is only one Drakken; they bleed and die like anything else. An unclean kill, but a kill all the same.

Gods blood, it would be a good feeling to kill right now. He almost hoped the Drakken would give him cause to slay kill. Almost.

"So go on. Speak, if you have aught to say worth my listening." Zakroti grinned beneath the visor of his helmet.