"The Archdragon ordered his wayward troops home.<br/><br/>Yes, you won. This was a war, and you fought until you won. Your opponents died, and the ones that fled are being rounded up and condemned to suffer the Blood War for the next millennia."<br/><br/>He paused, head tilting slightly further to the side than a normal neck would allow without extreme flexibility, and turned to the dwarf. "Have you something to say, son of Moridin?"<br/><br/>He waited until the dwarf had either made his comment, or declined to, but that he had admitted that it was both his folly and that he had taken care of the issue should keep most of the outcry to a minimum. And if they did complain too loudly, he was sure a direct challenge would make a refreshing change of pace from the toothless politics they indulged in. At least, toothless compared to what his constructs fought every day on the outer rims of the MPV.<br/><br/>Once clear of the room, the eight bodyguards decloaked just outside the room, and formed up behind him in a V formation, him at the point, and they sprinted, jumping out a smashed window and falling nearly thirty feet, landing lightly before resuming the dash to the portal location. Once there, he headed back to the domain, dismissing the armor and weapons once in, and stretched, checking to see if anyone felt the urge to scream at him. If not, he figured a good run through The Cave would make for an amusing change of pace, and he wanted another stab at an appropriate weapon.