Ryth listened intently to what Madame Babooshka said, allowing her words to sink in like a warmth after being in the cold for an extended time. He had his suspicions that the temporal rifts of the electrical strom on the Plains of Kendrinthalas had transported him to another place, but his mind could barely comprehend the idea that he would never again return to his homeland.
"And you will never return to your former home."
Her words rang through his mind like a gong, resonating and ringing with a definitive force. His breath caught in his chest, and his heart beat quickly, so quick he feared it would burst. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on the hag before him.
“If Grundara wills it, I will follow,” he said slowly and with determination. “You ask who I am, and I will answer truthfully. I am Ryth Zellari, of the clan Klenchfyst. I hail…” he paused momentarily, thinking he should correct himself, but in the end, chose not to. If he was indeed in a different land, there was no need to keep secrets, as they would not serve a purpose that he could see. “I hail from a land called Dryktara, and I know not why I am here.”
The Red Condor shrieked at Sir Darvig in full wrath. Wings flapped storms of fire across the sky. "The Mage-God grows in power swifter than it appears to Paladine. This I know. A warning," Sargonnas told Darvigl, "for you to give to Paladine in your prayers."
“I will,” Darvig uttered.