It took Hulen a moment to focus on the king. He was sweating, feverish.
'Your... your Highness,' he said, breathing heavily. 'I return from the spirits. They have decided to... to aid us.'
With that, he reached under his bed and with shivering hands brought something long, wrapped in a shroud, out. Smiling weakly, Hulen pulled the shroud aside, revealing the Wildspear in all its glory. The weapon seemed to radiate warmth, whispering into their wilds with low wind and the sounds of the wilderness.
'The Wildspear, my king. Any man who wields it will possess the strength and skill of ten men. Any army under them will fight with terrifying ferocity. Remain wary. It is a great gift, but the spirits cannot be trusted,' he said. 'My servants were lost and I was wounded, as you can see, due to their bestial nature. They demand a hundred men also, to be killed in the forest where the pact was made. Prisoners from the war as well as any outlaws we find should fulfill this purpose. It is barbaric, my liege, but these spirits are not much more than animals. To sate them, it must be done.'
Hulen paused, his eyes slipping closed. After a while, he snapped awake and continued. 'And... thus, if we wield the Spear, our victory is assured. Was there... was there anything else? I am weary, from my wounds.'