The dark breath of power that Nyrielle unleashed might have stripped away Aspakos's attempt to conceal himself by diminishing his presence in the meeting, but it did nothing to strip away the bloody aura of power and mystery that clung to the Dark Feathered sorcerer. The veins of gold that held the shards of his broken beak glittered in the flickering light of the formal dining room's many oil lamps, providing a singular bright spot in his otherwise dark appearance and drawing all eyes as he responded to Nyrielle's question.
"My Lady," the aging sorcerer said in a resonant tone that commanded the attention of the entire room. "The Sorcerers of Sundered Earth cannot take part in this war. The blood that will be spilled if we do will be enough to turn rivers red and make the heavens weep," he said. "Do not force our hands. It is unwise for you and your people for us to become involved too early."
