Life and Times of the Deimos King

Through the usual water portal he arrived, a certain phantom familiarity coming to him upon seeing Phil's house. Even though he hadn't really been raised there...

Damn these viruses! he broke away from the first chain of thought. They mess with your head and body. If I ever find out who's causing these..!

As Darc looked around, he couldn't help but be conscious of the weight of his new assets. There was a simple red cloth bound around his chest. It was crude, but it covered, though it did little in the way of support; he could feel a jiggling bounce with every step. That same bounce hit him once again as he began to walk toward the door of Phil's home. The king stopped upon remembering his friend's condition, and figured that going in the front would be pointless.

Then what should he hear but the sounds of loud splashing. The beach...that makes more sense.

He turned and began down the path to the beach. Just as it was coming into view, he called out "Phil! Is that you?"

Oh yes, he had almost forgotten how much he hated the sound of his new voice too.

Darc awoke the day after the tournament in the Rueloon inn. Although he was tired, he felt satisfied for having hosted his first successful public event. With a long, languid stretch, he rose from the bed and went to get ready - he had a trip to go on today.

Some time later, he awaited Philomel outside of the entrance of the inn/tavern. Escorting and protecting someone was somewhat familiar to him, as he had been Lilia's protector several times during their travels. It was this new charge that he would be watching out for that was unfamiliar. All he really knew was that she liked dragons and happened to be an artist. She seems okay though, thought Darc. With an inward shrug, he figured that he would just let things ride out.

So with a smirk at the occasional "hello King Darc" that passed him by, he waited.