The evidence of their coming departure was subtle. They had looked into military-grade survival supplies this time, not just the sort of recreational things sold at a large mark-up on the borders of the wilderness and civilized lands. Small backpacks with only the most necessary of weights added to them had been assembled. Warren had been spending his time mending an old set of scale that he hadn't used in a long time; His work on the Bloodsands had moved away to less bulky equipment to help usher in the spectacle of the event but the highlander was remiss to ever part with something serviceable.
He let his mind drift as the hammer struck the links atop the anvil. Despite his comfort with the scale-and-plate combination his Free Paladin armor he still wanted to get out and give his old equipment a test run. He'd be living in it soon and he couldn't afford to wear himself out on the long trek north, so being certain he would be able to move and fight at efficiency was highest priority. There would be no field repairs and no second chances to adjust things once they were underway.
The steady clang of the hammer worked to help his concentrate on not concentrating. His sleep had been combative lately and he knew his temper was quicker to boil. The question had been knocking on him since Whitebrim and the answer was just out of his grasp.
Is this justice or revenge?
Warren knew that he was going to kill Prauvaulient before setting out. There was no other way for that meeting to end, and he suspected the Inspector had known that as well. The lengths he had gone to for answers, hopelessly futile answers that had changed nothing, still haunted him.
Is there even a difference?
He let his mind drift as the hammer struck the links atop the anvil. Despite his comfort with the scale-and-plate combination his Free Paladin armor he still wanted to get out and give his old equipment a test run. He'd be living in it soon and he couldn't afford to wear himself out on the long trek north, so being certain he would be able to move and fight at efficiency was highest priority. There would be no field repairs and no second chances to adjust things once they were underway.
The steady clang of the hammer worked to help his concentrate on not concentrating. His sleep had been combative lately and he knew his temper was quicker to boil. The question had been knocking on him since Whitebrim and the answer was just out of his grasp.
Is this justice or revenge?
Warren knew that he was going to kill Prauvaulient before setting out. There was no other way for that meeting to end, and he suspected the Inspector had known that as well. The lengths he had gone to for answers, hopelessly futile answers that had changed nothing, still haunted him.
Is there even a difference?
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
