A drop of cold sweat dripped down Adam's back as Zul'Morak stepped forward. The curse-saying old man, who prophesied his death for the past five days, would testify? Sure... He might as well tie the knot around his neck and be done with it.
Not that Grum'Thal cared. His red eyes narrowed beneath his hood as his voice echoed like the chime of a forgotten bell. "Many have heard about your champion, Morak. A veteran of a dozen battles, someone who shone in this cycle's conquest of the trolls. I have one question. Only one. Did you feel or notice Adomash use trickery during your champion's ultimate duel?"
Zul'Morak performed a theatrical bow, his face half-turned toward Adam. He wore a disgusting smirk, the one that told Adam everything. He would lie.
Adam clenched his jaw. Protocol didn't matter. He would speak for himself before that bastard smeared his reputation!
