Thread:FunAndGamess/@comment-39024013-20190813093354/@comment-39042010-20190830214054

Teroe chuckles.

"You don't have to call me your majesty anymore. Consider us friends," he says, leading the gryphon into the inn. He walks up to the innkeeper, taking a deep breath, eyes closed. When he opens his eyes again, they're shining with otherworldly light. "Bring me a baked apple," he says, and his voice seems to have dropped an octave. The innkeeper's eyes glaze over and he nods slowly, walking away. "I love weak minds," Teroe says with a chuckle. "That's not a trick I use very often."

Enderfiretheanimusdragon (talk)

"This town was never yours," the Darkheart growls. "It is under Teroe's jurisdiction. You, on the other hand, were the dictator - not the Guardian - of a small area up north, by Abbithia. And you were nearly killed by Ralen of the Vaerito and driven into the Abbithian Mountains. You have no territory now. Leave now, before I decide to kill you."