Moonspear i’m on the dark side of a hollow hill

in moonspear, it was your birthright that defined you.

followed by your title.

but that birthright -- the legacy behind the true blood -- was what put hydra above thousands of others. its what would always keep her head above the current of a hundred legions, for she was the product of a carefully curated patrimony's zenith.

the trueborn heir to greatness.

arcturus wondered how a man like dirge felt, to be entrenched in the thick of that kind of unmatchable power: his legacy enshrouded and as misty as the distant peaks. did he find he could reconcile his bloodline with that of the mountaineers? or did he hope from his own forging, a better legacy would surface?

arcturus was silent, as he was often prone to be while ruminating over a troubling thought. not for the first time did he catch a bit of carefulness in that answer; a carefulness that seemed crafted.

he overlooked it. dirge was his friend, and he adored the man as both mentor and kin. their conversation may have drawn to a close, but dirge had given arcturus plenty of fodder to think about, and think the mountaineer did -- heavily, in his own worried gloom.