Reth didn’t focus on the stifled bickering that clouded around him. No, he was far too busy trying to solve a much more important question: Where was he? The floor that he was sprawled across was chilling, most likely tile. His eyes wouldn’t seem to open at first, but they soon slid open as the magnitude of the speakers’ voices grew. Reth was greeted by an unusual sight. Depicted on the ceiling was a morbid, yet hypnotizing scene: A reaper atop a white stead had its skeletal hand offered to a fallen king. The king looked angered from his place in the mud, but his hand was at his sword nonetheless. He was willing to fight death, was he? What a silly king.