Hotor charges in sword-first, as he has always done, and Hafur resists the urge to rub his forehead in exasperation. There isn't much forehead left, for one thing, and Hotor would always be Hotor, for another.
Hafur could no longer remember their mother's face, or her name, or anything about her life. The only thing he had of her was a half-remembered whisper in the night: take care of your brother, Hafur. He does not have your fine mind, and you need each other. Through war and conquest, death and undeath, all the bloody centuries of their existence, somehow that whisper remained.
There is no joy in Coc'zac's war, and Hafur is long past caring whether the skull succeeds or fails. But Hafur will take care of his brother. They need each other. And so, he turns to those defenders of the Inn outside his brother's reach, and he raises his arms, his tattered wrappings whipping back in a nonexistent gale, and he calls to the swarm.
Hafur - Boss Fight
Hafur could no longer remember their mother's face, or her name, or anything about her life. The only thing he had of her was a half-remembered whisper in the night: take care of your brother, Hafur. He does not have your fine mind, and you need each other. Through war and conquest, death and undeath, all the bloody centuries of their existence, somehow that whisper remained.
There is no joy in Coc'zac's war, and Hafur is long past caring whether the skull succeeds or fails. But Hafur will take care of his brother. They need each other. And so, he turns to those defenders of the Inn outside his brother's reach, and he raises his arms, his tattered wrappings whipping back in a nonexistent gale, and he calls to the swarm.