Razzith has already unraveled a napkin and thrown it over his lap, ready to dig into the meal he had had the kitchens meticulously prepare according to what little information he could dig up about Hellhounds.
He looked up after he did, finding his guests staring at him. Razzith cleared his throat and crumpled the napkin in a fist.
"Word from Ibaeron has begun to slowly spread amongst the five cities of Flaeris," The Fiend began heavily, quickly realizing that his guests were completely uninterested in the fare at the table.
Caedos listened quietly, keeping to himself that there were ten cities. He couldn't care less about the war dividing them, Fiends were all the same to him.
"I've felt the impact more than most," The Grand Duke went on, "Even now, Velmorn still receives survivors from the fallen city. It is simply common sense to approach the victor of the battle that burnt down Ibaeron."
