Six hours had passed and Damon was still droning on and on. He talked about logistics, the names of troops he did not even know and had merely overheard in passing, what he had read about dragons, how he had formulated a plan without ever revealing what that plan actually was, the happenings within the campsite, his time in the Duhu Mountains and even the Whispering Forest.
At this point everyone was mentally exhausted.
Damon had droned on and on about every little nonsensical detail.
Those who had once been fuming with rage had long since burned out, the person tasked with recording the events of the meeting had hands that were now shaking uncontrollably while his head throbbed from being forced to endure six straight hours of absolute nonsense.
He was technically doing as they commanded. In a way that could only be seen as such. When in truth, he was just stalling.
Everyone just wanted him to stop talking.
The High Templar finally took a deep breath.
