The moment of reunion, sought across such vast distance, shattered by the outpouring of emotion flowing from Llewellynn, the ancient and bedraggled wolf hound giving a final warm glance in the eyes of she whom was his heart before rising to stand and look upon Llewellynn and these strangers a glow surrounding him, forming from deep within the soulful eyes, subtle gold tinged with violence for he to had lost more then any could comprehend with the death of his master.
The glow brightening, becoming more virulent, a sound, subterranean filling the sky, brighter and brighter until his form could no longer be seen... then silence. The bright façade fading, to reveal a slender yet ominous looking man, the grandeur of passion and suppressed rage dancing on his visage for mere seconds before calming himself to the appearance of urbanity. Nodding to Llewellynn's tale until the end then as she turned away speaking, his minds voice mingling with that of the spoken word giving a choir effect as the words rumbled off his tongue.
"Strictly speaking Camelot be not dead, merely sleeping, for whilever one still breathes whom comprehends honour then slowly her heart still beats. Kalyssien" at this he paused and waves of grief would wash out to hammer upon those present... "Kalyssien, the last anointed king, died, killed by one acting on the wishes of one unfit to bear the name Pendragon, for no honour exists in the blackened abyss she claims as a heart. A ball... a celebration was called, and in the midst of revelry, one stepped forth whose given word held honour. She slew the king and in that action sewed the seeds leading to Camelot being subsumed beneath the waters of the Lake in hope of cleansing."
Again he glanced at Llewellynn's parting back. "Thee may think me mad for claiming Kalyssien's death was granted by honour, yet she whom took his life, stood true to her own value, that cannot be denied. Unlike the foul misbegotten pretender whom at one time claimed to love Pendragon, to love Camelot yet could not soil her own hands to bring its demise." Drak paused, allowing this to sink in, for the actions of Kalyssien's death could not have been prevented, and had any attempted to step in, then none would be here to tell the tale of his passing. "If any are to be blamed, blame Merthynn, for by her poison, her filthy perversion did this come to pass. The Lady... Atra cut the head off Pendragon as one would slaughter a wild dog. While her actions defy all, the true serpent, the poisoner of Camelot was Kalyssien's own sister."
His words fading his mind reaching with compassion to enwrap Llewellynn, the words mentally sent for her ears alone... "Little sister... Kalyssien once told me, he thought thy skills wasted in serving to protect the king. Kings will always fail, be they beaten by age and time, or cut down by their own humanity. I knew my masters mind beyond any comprehension and can say he would think thee successful, not failing. His greatest desire was to see thee serve a master whom could not fail, the land herself, the people therein so that thy heart would not take blame for the failure of others. Protect these lands Llewellynn, protect the people therein, make that thy mission and know not the bitter taste of failure again." Golden eyes looking to study Rashia for a moment, pondering the man's presence, then a shrug for to define the reasons behind the actions of the gods whom had drawn him here was beyond reason... "welcome sir, may thy valour find a haven amidst our small group."
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