It was an uneasy goodbye for him, but it was agreed by both he and Aely that a stroll back to Hearthglen would not be very easy to explain, nor would the explanation needed for the three Argent soldiers once they regained consciousness. Aely would get word to Tarquin. What would happen then…well, Jolly could not be concerned with that.
She had certainly come into her own in the time he had been…departed. That much he was glad to see. This was something that preoccupied his mind as he retreated further into the highlands of Lordaeron, back into forests and glens that, in some cases, had not seen men since before the rise of Arathor.
Four days, they had agreed upon. In four days he would move back down into the lowlands south of Hearthglen, and there he would meet with them again. How that would turn out…well, he would know then. Distractedly, he looked south. Somewhere out there, he knew the ring lay. In whose hands, he was completely uncertain. He hoped to find them before they unlocked its secrets. He hoped to get his hands around their neck.
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