Misarmor | //top\\

Which was, of course, exactly the way he wanted it.

The Silent King convulsed, made a sound like a cracked bell, and collapsed. The Brethren froze. Without their leader’s will, they were just rags and bone. The Archivist blinked at Kaelen, then at his plain gray armor, then back at his face. misarmor

Kaelen watched from the shadow of the broken portcullis. His misarmor made no sound. No polished pauldrons to click. No cloak to rustle. He was a gray ghost in a carnival of death. Which was, of course, exactly the way he wanted it