"Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me; for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.."

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It was a strange feeling, to be waiting upon Glorall’s borders alone as he expected his relative to arrive at any moment. His father must have place some amount of trust within him if he believed Naberius capable of traveling here alone and hopefully returning victorious.

Perhaps Rogue knew of where it was that he had journeyed from, for there was only a short amount of time that passed before she was now approaching him with her skull low to the ground. She was interesting to look upon as he noted her demon marks, though her eyes were much different than those of which he has witnessed before. She did not address him any fashion, nor did she expose any emotion to him through her facial features. She was intelligent enough in this and surely still held the code much in same ways that Naberius does to this day. He nods to her in a moment before speaking, his words being voiced to her in a way much like an adult would converse to another, for he knows he will not win her respect by acting like a foolish child.

“Rogue.” He pauses for a moment before speaking again. “I am your nephew, Naberius. My father sends his wishes for you to find a place within your life for Iromar once again. You are a highly desired after asset.” His voice is even in tone and his expression never changing, all business. Perhaps it is not within her wishes to return home where he blood flows thickly through the moorland, but Naberius would try as he might to sway her otherwise. It was his given duty, after all, and he is not one to shun such priorities. “What does Glorall offer you that we cannot?” He pries as he looks about them, drawing what details he can retain; the scents, sounds, and sights of this strange pack. What it is that Rogue finds appealing here is beyond the young demon boy.

But perhaps he is not looking upon Glorall within the same perspective.

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