IT WAS A MOONLESS NIGHT, as Trubo put aside the map fragment and tossed his quill down on the floor, likely not needing it again after tonight. Silently, he suffered as the gravity of his past actions played on his mind, even as he wrestled with the horrors that lie ahead.
While the hooded stranger had compelled him to her wishes, she did not possess the same control that the Shadowlords had over him. His thoughts still wandered, especially on a night such as this. It was a wonder that his brain was not completely befuddled after years of magical manipulation. He no longer knew which of his actions were his own. One thing he most desired, even more than the unnatural urge to please his current master, was freedom from the confusion, the guilt, and the memories.
Maybe that is why he did not give out a warning when he recognized the telltale call in the night from the outskirts of the mercenary camp. He merely smiled with the knowledge of what it meant.
Just one last task remained. Quickly walking over to the corner of the room, he pulled out one of the loose panels in floor. From underneath the hiding place, he carefully uncovered a small piece of the anti-magus crystal. Then using it as a focal point, he concentrated on his memories in the hopes of leaving behind a small part of his story as told by himself…
Throne Room, August 22nd, 2:00 PM PST