170 - Wolfsbane deaths

The room is bathed in dim candlelight, casting flickering shadows on the lavish furnishings. King Kaldir, once a feared warlord, now sits alone on a grand chair, his demeanor shrouded in darkness. In his hand, he holds a gleaming silver knife, its blade glinting ominously.

Eskaal, determined to confront Kaldir and seek justice for his actions, quietly enters the room. His eyes narrow as they fall upon the scene before him. He tenses, ready for whatever confrontation may come.

Eskaal yells at him firmly. “Kaldir! What are you doing with that knife? Hah! Are you that coward now?” Kaldir starts, his grip on the knife tightening. He slowly turns to face Eskaal, his expression a mix of surprise and resignation.

Kaldir becomes defensive. “Eskaal, it's not what you think.” Eskaal takes cautious steps closer, his gaze locked on the silver knife. Eskaal speaks with a skeptical look. “Explain yourself, Kaldir. What is that knife for? And this whole commotion?”

Kaldir places the knife on a n