A madness that ought not to have been allowed to be. Years of scheming, corruption, and unpredictability.
A massive meaty hand slapped down on his shoulder. Firyr's other half – or at least, that was what he had become – had been listening in less subtly, and as soon as Oliver had caught his eye, Judas had given up all pretences. "Your name is Jorah, isn't it, boy?" Judas said.
"It is, Commander," Jorah replied politely.
Judas glanced at Oliver. "Am I a Commander?"
"I didn't plan for it to happen, but it does seem to have. I would say that both you and Firyr have proven that, at the very least, the two of you useful as Vice-Commanders," Oliver said.
"Fine, I accept," Judas said easily. It almost made him sound arrogant, but Oliver knew from experience that Judas was likely shaking at the responsibility. "Do you know why I accept, Jorah?"
Jorah shook his head.