Ka'z stared at the corpse and a heavy frown weighing down his face. The old goblin lay strangely peacefully now, his red cloak stained with blood and his staff resting a short distance from his limp fingers.
Only minutes ago, Varg had been standing before him, determined to protect his village despite his frail body and fading core. Ka'z had expected to feel satisfaction after killing him. He had come here believing that destroying everything the Ashmork Clan depended on would finally ease the anger that had been eating at him since the war began. Yet standing over the old goblin's body, all he felt was an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest.
"God... Why the fuck do I still have a conscience?" he muttered under his breath.
