He gave the drow and then hobgoblin a look, before nodding. "I might not have liked the paladin, but he did keep most of the Desperate Twelve alive, which was a legendary feat in and of itself. Though if you want to know about Borval, I guess, just to be a completist, I should tell you about the adventure that gave both me and Borval our divine sparks, which is what ascended both of us into godhood."<br/><br/>He shook his head, before telling the story of the Maralith, as well as any storyteller could hope, starting with 'The Call,' the first few encounters with undead legions, working toward a few beleagured towns, breaking the undead sieges, and finally arriving at the last town, where Vorela and two others stayed behind due to wounds, and a desire to help the last checkpoint for the following armies to survive. The impossible fights, getting harder, before the sudden encounter with demons the night before the fortress. The fights into, through, and up and the death of the specialist wizard, leaving one cleric and an accompanying knight behind at a chokepoint to stay as long as possible, preventing ground reinforcements to help the enemy commander. More fights up, losing most of the equipment due to a collapsing floor, killing the porter, and then the final desperate fight.<br/><br/>He paused at the end of his fight, before describing, as best he could remember, what it felt like to absorb the fluke in space/time, and then the passing of time as a living blight. He was cold and as unemotional as any could hope, but a tightness about his eyes would betray how much he disliked dredging up those memories. He finally finished, nearly an hour after he started, and he waited for a moment, staring at the road for a moment, as the others waited for him to continue, sipping at the special waterskins he had handed out before he started his tale, similar to endless decanters of water in that they never ran out of cool, crisp, clean water. After a few minutes, he spoke of the fight with Borval, using an illusion to show what the paladin had looked like before the explosion in the fortress, and then again when he had encountered him. He kept the illusion up, using it to help explain how they had ducked, weaved, and flew about each other, even the parts where Draiss had been flying upside down in direct defiance of natural balancing, only further demonstrating that he really wasn't an absurdly powerful mage with delusions of grandeur. Finally finished, he glanced at the others, before explaining his final respects to the former party leader, and then pausing again. "So, any questions?"