One of the underlings of the High King Goraxe Meridian I brought the document to Vhals attention, with it addorned an illustrious silver quil with a red feather, and the darkest of black ink. Vhal looked at the ink and wondered if it really WAS that black, if it was Entropic Ink, or if souls had been used to bind this ink into its deadly form, either way something left him mildly concerned and weary.

However, as promptly as the vow of document was brought forward, he was told that Welfhellion would be going into the fray, and Bofur Grimstone.

There was, without question, Vhal would sign.

"I suppose I better flick my wrist a little, kill a few thousand more evil do'ers and bask in the ray of glory which is my own magnificence."

Vhal thought to himself, bowing lightly to the court and requesting leave from the Palace in the Kingdom of Essex. He wouldn't dare have said as such out loud in the court room, not in Vhals current political condition anyway.

He lightly walked backwards, bowing again, and began to twist his body round from his ankles and leave promptly.