[Oh, so this dream's like a trip to the Outrealms. The heroes there don't seem to understand the difference between the Halidom and Theocracy, and have never heard of Plegia or the Grimleal, he's found. But doling out a history lesson doesn't appeal to Henry as much as the familiar sights found in the foliage. He shrugs his shoulders, his attention dragging back to the sight of himself wreaking havoc across Plegia's desert landscape.]
Eh, just some countries that hated each other's guts. Ylisse's all about the Divine Dragon, and Plegia worships the Fell Dragon. They're opposing ideologies, in case you couldn't tell. That's politics! It doesn't matter much to me. As long as I get to roast some bad guys, I didn't care which side I'm on!
[Henry points his fingers at some of the fleeing soldiers in his memory, making little "pshew pshew!" sounds as though he could zap the soldiers across time and space. Then he laughs again, amused at his own imagination of their ruin.
The Henry in his memory ceases his attack once Plegia's retreated, severing him from his homeland once and for all. But there is no feeling of increased loneliness whispered by the wind: crows swoop in, cloaking Henry in their inky feathers. He was more lonely in the ranks of Plegia's army than the chance to carve his own path, in the end. The lack of killing's the boring part, Henry's decided, and he turns back to Yako.]
What's the problem with my reason, anyway? I think it's pretty compelling. War's war, and bowling my enemies over with spell after spell's a real adrenaline rush! Is there any better reason to do something than having fun?
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Eh, just some countries that hated each other's guts. Ylisse's all about the Divine Dragon, and Plegia worships the Fell Dragon. They're opposing ideologies, in case you couldn't tell. That's politics! It doesn't matter much to me. As long as I get to roast some bad guys, I didn't care which side I'm on!
[Henry points his fingers at some of the fleeing soldiers in his memory, making little "pshew pshew!" sounds as though he could zap the soldiers across time and space. Then he laughs again, amused at his own imagination of their ruin.
The Henry in his memory ceases his attack once Plegia's retreated, severing him from his homeland once and for all. But there is no feeling of increased loneliness whispered by the wind: crows swoop in, cloaking Henry in their inky feathers. He was more lonely in the ranks of Plegia's army than the chance to carve his own path, in the end. The lack of killing's the boring part, Henry's decided, and he turns back to Yako.]
What's the problem with my reason, anyway? I think it's pretty compelling. War's war, and bowling my enemies over with spell after spell's a real adrenaline rush! Is there any better reason to do something than having fun?