Haunted Wood Some liar brought the thunder.

It took a while, but the Warlord was back to health. His knee no longer bothered him with every step he took, every stride was filled with power once more, just in time for winter to begin its hold on the lands. 

Bee-lining toward the borders where a stink had continued to linger, a scent that now was the time to investigate - that captive had been lingering on their border and no longer would the Warlord ignore his presence. It wasn't often Vengeance ignored visitors on their lands, or walk away from a possible encounter such as this - but he had an idea. Once in awhile the Warlord did think his actions through, it all depended on how much he wanted a certain thing... and how long he had to plot it out.

Would it fall in his favour? Well, we would all soon find out just how clever the Warlord can, or cannot be.

Slithering out from the woods, he stepped into view of the once captive. Silent despite his size, his mind ticking with possibilities. For a moment his maw tasted the air, allowing a plume of white to smoke to caress his maw and vanish along his cheeks, and spoke. I thought you would have been long gone by now. His voice smooth and deep, dark like a bottomless pit. 

Despite the odd calm air about him, he was ready to defend. In the back of his brain, he was aware of how wound up the once captive would be, what might be on his mind... that perhaps talking, was not something he was willing to do. 

But he was also aware that back-up, was only a call away. This was his lands after all. He had the upper hand in this, and he would use all benefits if necessary.