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"What... What made them think they had the right to play with one's soul? To... To separate it?" Hano steps into the training ring and slides his sheath over his head and shoulder, placing it to the side as he continued walking. "Sindron... What they did... Nobody has the right to even consider doing what they did." He presses into the barracks and undoes his cape, folding it neatly in his hands then places it in the cabinet to his side.
"Harbingers... Arbiters... The Counsel of Seven... I don't understand these people and I don't hope to, but to play Gods?" He shutters for a moment recalling the Essence of Judgment lashing out at him. How close it came to claiming him, even while restrained by the four familiar faces of the Hands.
"Jurai... Rismal... Galos... Mizrahi... Kaldris." He sighs taking his armor off. "Kharhaz... Why did you show us this? Why did you show me and Sol the past? Why did you give us your memories? What do you expect of Sol...? Of me?" He grunts placing his armor, gauntlets, and boots away in the cabinet then turns to Tamryn sprawled out in his bed.
He begins to rub his forehead in the all-familiar way to express his frustration. Half because of the visions, half because he doesn't want to wake Tamryn to claim a position in his own bed. "...Harbingers? How the hell am I going to find these faceless men? The shadows that work amongst Sundren, for Sundren?"
He mutters something to himself as he pads over to his bed, pulling the blankets back looking to Tamryn. Before he moves to speak or take his place his eyes widen for a brief moment. "Wait - The Harbinger of Judgment, before that he was a..." The now undressed Tormite swallows trying to collect himself. "...The Abbot. He must know. I just.. Hope I know what I'm getting into."
"Harbingers... Arbiters... The Counsel of Seven... I don't understand these people and I don't hope to, but to play Gods?" He shutters for a moment recalling the Essence of Judgment lashing out at him. How close it came to claiming him, even while restrained by the four familiar faces of the Hands.
"Jurai... Rismal... Galos... Mizrahi... Kaldris." He sighs taking his armor off. "Kharhaz... Why did you show us this? Why did you show me and Sol the past? Why did you give us your memories? What do you expect of Sol...? Of me?" He grunts placing his armor, gauntlets, and boots away in the cabinet then turns to Tamryn sprawled out in his bed.
He begins to rub his forehead in the all-familiar way to express his frustration. Half because of the visions, half because he doesn't want to wake Tamryn to claim a position in his own bed. "...Harbingers? How the hell am I going to find these faceless men? The shadows that work amongst Sundren, for Sundren?"
He mutters something to himself as he pads over to his bed, pulling the blankets back looking to Tamryn. Before he moves to speak or take his place his eyes widen for a brief moment. "Wait - The Harbinger of Judgment, before that he was a..." The now undressed Tormite swallows trying to collect himself. "...The Abbot. He must know. I just.. Hope I know what I'm getting into."