Epilogue

Remember the Battle of Belhalla? History books could barely bring themselves to fully chronicle such a tragedy. As it turns out, having the guy that orchestrated the attack being the one overseeing the kingdom that was to write those history books wasn't the smartest move. Cockily assuming that his attack had ended the insurrection in its entirety, Arvis looked over his newfound land and went to sleep in his beautiful house, with his beautiful wife, with his large Valflame. And then he asked himself "Wait, did I kill all of them-"

The year is Grann 780. The holy war has finally concluded, and the Loptr church has been successfully disbanded. Arvis' history record is a load of trollop.

Unfortunately, it turns out that letting a teenager just casually slay a vessel for a dark god alongside his traumatized cousin without realizing how much of that dark magic is left in the world and losing the one thing that could have sourced it all and gotten rid of every last trace of darkness in one swoop actually wasn't the smartest idea in hindsight. The deadlords still remain, with the aura of Loptous constantly infecting warriors of the past to bring them back for one final chance at overriding the peace of the world. As it turns out, not even Jugdral is immune to Newton's third law, and to match the stupidity of releasing Loptous' final hurrah, that final hurrah was comprised of all the energy that wasn't needed for omnicide.

So, y'know.

Insatiably Lustful Warriors of the Damned.

Just another day in Thracia.

Bright side? Ayra's alive, and I have been able to successfully confirm that this 'Eyvel' woman is Brigid. She growls just like her! Oh, and I'm gonna need an explanation as to WHY you didn't tell us that Edain was okay this entire time.

Anyway PLEASE come and help get these idiots out. I think Brigid is hypersensitive or something and I refuse to allow a Crusader's descendant to die from what can best be described as ticklish foreplay.

Yours, Lewyn.

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