ShadowBroker
One Thousand Club
I N I R
"Please wait..." maybe she couldn't realize by all the anger dooming her best logical mind, yet Inir's voice sounded cracked and hallow, as if he lacked of the strength to speak louder. He shut his eyes and his hand tried to wipe his face from whatever he had... shame or tears yet neither were there... just the memory, the past toying with him. He then looked back at her and made a step forward, "I don't want to put anyone in danger. Do you understand that?" he raised his hand, trying to explain himself, "What is that you thought it would happen, Iris? Hmh? That... We will go together on the horse and ride against the enemies... odds against us. Fight together, bleed together... die together?" he continued to make steps forwards as he regained the strength on his voice, his hand still expressing what with words he couldn't, "I can't accept that someone dies because of my duty. I won't have it." he shook his head with anger, despair, "I know how it felt and I won't have it again. I don't want... to know I failed."
He looked back towards the graves, his eyes shaking in sorrow... but that sorrow was fill by hatred. The only thing that full his strength, his power. His devotion to protect? Or his devotion to harm? There was a very delicate line and Inir seemed clinging in the middle of it. He shook the emotion away as he faced once more Iris, "Forgive me." the words seemed both directed to her as it was directed to the one on the graves. Hard to tell... his eyes were now looking down to the ground.
J O R A H
Jorah snorted once more as he rested his back on the throne, a small grin showing on the side of his face as he let his glance loose on the room. Thinking about anything but the war... the words of Vyral remembered him of how he was when he was younger. Not much of a difference though.
Jorah leaned forward and spoke, "Have anyone ever told you the story of my wife? Of how she pass away?" he smiled towards him, Jorah left the cup of wine aside and his hands united while their fingers connected with each-other, locking them between finger and finger, as if he was praying, "It's also the story of how Rason and Inir never get to... be together again as brothers." he stood up as if he was too eager to remain sit on his throne. He walked towards a statue and then turned back towards the Dragon. The statue was of a woman with a gentle gaze towards the sky, "A night. Rason and Hunter went to the hunt... First hunt of their life. Rason always showed superiority with the bow but he lacked the strength to finish the creature. Inir never find it hard to deliver the dead blow, he always thought he was being merciful... to ease the pain." his glance would turn darker as he spoke of the tragedy, "But Rason would be jealous of Inir's perspective and he would force him to use the bow... I am not sure how but, Inir shot the arrow and missed his practice target. Rason was in shock... he rush away to seek for help, someone that could heal her. But when he came back... Inir..."
He looked away from Vyral and then he continued to find his point, "Rason might not be a great man, but that is due the tragedies he had to overcome... my failure as a father."