A corrupt King sits the throne. The last generation of heroes have gone extinct. The lands are as green and as promising as they ever were. The Gods watch with interest and they wait. As next the next uprising comes from the most unlikely of places. A slow burn novel.
"…" Oliver went quiet, as he was forced to acknowledge the point. "I suddenly feel foolish for arguing," he said. "But, I can't be that bad, can I?"
"I certainly would not call it a weakness," Verdant said.
"…I wonder if you might be encouraging him too much, Lord Idris," Jorah said quietly. "I suddenly think I might be in agreement with the Captain. One of us, at least, ought to be more measured. Our Lord has pointed out on more than one occasion how much he values opposing opinions. It would not do for all of us to disagree."
Verdant's eyes glinted as he acknowledged the point. "A good point well made, young Jorah," Verdant said. "Very well, I shall endeavour to the devil's advocate."
"That sounds troublesome, please don't," Oliver said.
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