He was Pallin Kask. That Pallin Kask. The last of the Mourning Swords. The terror of Yann, he who tamed the great Beast of Mal. He was trying to decide on a drink. The barmaid stood there, trying her best not to tap her fingers against the table. The knight was a nice enough sort. Nice enough to look at. Golden flowing locks over burnished silver plate armor. Melancholia was buckled across the back of […]