Zandros pales at Isidor’s outburst and keeps his eyes on the ground. Going to battle was difficult, but reliving it in front of the Durants feels so much harder. At least when he was on the field there was a chance he might change the end of that tale. Now that day is in the past, and there are neither words nor actions that can alter what transpired.
“We did not win the battle. We could not defeat the Forsaken, and we will never hold Lordaeron. It was...”
He presses his lips together and knots his brow. It’s anger that he feels now. Frustration and betrayal at the thought of it all.
“It was a pointless massacre, void of all honor and accomplishing nothing.”
With a ragged breath he raises his head and, determined in this moment to no longer be afraid, he looks between the three Durants.
“I have been maimed for nothing. My father died for nothing, and I can only pray that his body will rot rather than be twisted into some ravenous ghoul by Forsaken necromancy. And your friend, Harrowheart, whom despite it all I believe each of you loved, has been unmade... For nothing.”
The pain in his lungs is all that keeps his breathing steady. His cheeks red, his chest trembling, he sits in near-silence broken only by the rattle in his chest and the rawness in his throat.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2020-02-01 06:05 pm (UTC)“We did not win the battle. We could not defeat the Forsaken, and we will never hold Lordaeron. It was...”
He presses his lips together and knots his brow. It’s anger that he feels now. Frustration and betrayal at the thought of it all.
“It was a pointless massacre, void of all honor and accomplishing nothing.”
With a ragged breath he raises his head and, determined in this moment to no longer be afraid, he looks between the three Durants.
“I have been maimed for nothing. My father died for nothing, and I can only pray that his body will rot rather than be twisted into some ravenous ghoul by Forsaken necromancy. And your friend, Harrowheart, whom despite it all I believe each of you loved, has been unmade... For nothing.”
The pain in his lungs is all that keeps his breathing steady. His cheeks red, his chest trembling, he sits in near-silence broken only by the rattle in his chest and the rawness in his throat.