Blackheart

Reunion

Charles moved with purpose as he strode through the streets of Palethorn, leading the rest of the group to the Palethorn University.

The dragonoid had been silent throughout the trip, but this time his silence was not born of anxiety or deferral, but stoic determination.

The group went north first, reaching that same wall they had vaulted over when they first traveled to the cave and met Tourthun.

Alexander thought that over with some regret. They had discovered the source of the demons. They had discovered the Citadel, the last bastion of life in the city, packed full of survivors waiting to be rescued. They even had a dragon for transportation...and they went back.

Of course, it had slipped the knight's mind to report back to Geralthin first...but that wasn't really his mission. He was here to destroy the source...and was expected to stay until it was done.

Still, he wished they could have evacuated the people of Palethorn...well, they were all stuck here now, until the abomination at the gates was gone.

He at least found comfort in the fact that things might have worked out for the best. Before knowing of the dangers of air travel, they might have been ON Tourthun when he was fired upon, and if they had been...none would have survived the fall.

Except maybe Leianna and whoever she could grab onto.

They moved forward, beginning to head East. The college was supposedly only an hour's walk, according to Charles.

"Are you sure it's that close?" Alexander asked, "An hour in something the size of this city...isn't very far."

"I LIVE here!" the magician answered angrily, "You think I'm lying?!"

"No, no, I uh...I'm just used to being disappointed, I suppose."

The dragonoid rolled his eyes. "This hour walk is a calculation. Back before all of this madness, it certainly would take longer. Without crowded streets however, we move more quickly. Now as long as we don't run into any of those fiends, it should only be about an hour. Hopeful estimates, but not impossible."

The human nodded. "I see. Alright, than."

He wasn't quite comfortable with all of this yet. These strange creatures, with the shape of men. Even after they had proven themselves...some lingering questions remained.

He'd heard horror stories about half-dragons his whole life. Sure, Charles seemed normal enough, but how he just suddenly snapped, only to pull himself back...were the stories true?

Were all halfbreeds inherently evil? Was Charles just good at resisting it, or even worse, hiding it? Was he secretly-

The knight shook those ideas out of his head.

That was insane.

His outburst was incredibly mild. The magician had just gotten so slightly snippy with him...was that really worth questioning if he was secretly evil, after all the good things he had done? Charles was a good man...probably. The rest of these strange survivors seemed so as well. Their...eccentric nature was simply due to their strange living circumstances.

The knight thought back to the kobolds. They spent so much time being bloodthirsty little barbarians, living in squalid caves and worshiping dragons, and then...suddenly were forced to live like common citizens in an urban environment, all the while being preached the values of peace and kindness endlessly, if Greenbranch was to be believed.

It made sense they would come out of that a little...strange. They still carried their zealous and excitable natures, only those traits were now channeled towards social interactions and private life, instead of killing and pillaging. A life in the wild left them unfamiliar with urban etiquette and what was deemed acceptable in most other societies, yet they seemed willing to learn.