Kenabres has fallen, the missive says. The grim gnome crumples it in his hands.
Yaker approaches: "Sir, what news?"
Regill: "Assemble some men, Yaker, we ride for Kenabres."
Yaker nods, the clang of his fist against his armor in salute almost immediate.
Regill, looking into the distant rising sun: "Kenabres has fallen."
Yaker grows pale: "P-paralictor?"
Regill begins assembling goods and amor: "We do not ride with vengeance, however. No."
Yaker completes the fastening of Regill's armor upon his beast.
Regill: "We ride now with Wrath."
Yaker continues, but his hands a little slower.
Regill grasps his hand, firm as his superior, but gently as his lover.
Regill: "The Wrath... Of the Righteous."
>camera down to earth, black, title screen
>"Ahhh ahhhh ah-ahhhhhh....."