Ossomer turns to leave the parley, crestfallen and slumping. Tramennis holds out an arm and points at him, scowling angrily and ordering him to stay. Slately looks pensive. Rows of archers are in the background. Blue bolts of lightning crackle overhead, giving the scene a pale blue glow.
Ossomer: I am... truly sorry, brother.
I will withdraw.
I will be speaking with your Chief Warlord presently!