4The False KingThe narrow thread of silver winding over hills expanded the farther west he went. Aldor left the day after the night spent with his fellow team members. He followed the river on foot, the plains of Longford melting into thick forest that characterized Dagon as a realm. It seemed darker than he remembered; the woods were void of life. Sure, no one ventured into the woodland unless they absolutely had to, but that was no excuse. No animals. No wind. No nothing.
The mud caked across his boots in an organic coat of paint, perspiration dribbling through his hair. The gates shouldn't be far now. He stuck slightly south of the path, he couldn't help but feel slightly wary of guards, especially with that entire Tempest escapade. Best to go undercover—at least until he saw Jon. Obvi
