AstralLein
Although Rezara did not hold Renavan in particular esteem, for Tezoth had seen Deuses far more worthy than him, she still felt awe at the sight of the snow-white visage of the returned lord. Something about him inspired reverence. Majesty or enigma... Rezara could not say for certain. Renavan looked quite human and could even pass for his age. The late Lord Afortek, eternal glory to him, had been preserved no worse in his final years. Deuce, however, spoke with all the intonations and ornate expressions of his granddaughter. A family trait, apparently...
– Lady Rezara Sanjore greets Your Piety, – the Crimson Blade repeated her friend's gesture.
They had accumulated no shortage of questions... But three stood out as most pressing:
"Had Deuce arrived to help Tezoth escape the crisis that had arisen and punish the traitors who had plotted to plunge humanity into an abyss of chaos?"
"Would Deuce support Adata Transend's claims to the throne of Sordgard? And if so, at what price?"
"Where had his all-honored deusian backside been wandering for 24 years, and had he succeeded in fulfilling his old dream?"
The phrasing, of course, remained Adata's prerogative.