The very next day after the funeral, Garulf readied himself with armour and weapons and hunted down those thieves responsible for his family's death. Three days later, he returned with the six heads of the thieves dangling on either side of his saddle. Their heads were then displayed above the gates of his castle and there they stayed whilst Garulf wailed and cried in his private chamber. His rage now spent, sorrow and grief were his only companions.
But Garulf only got worse, when he could no longer wail or cry, because his voice was spent, his throat dry and hoarse, he started to cry. But all too soon, he could no longer cry, his eyes stinging and his tear ducts as dry as the desert sand. Still the pain did not go away and Garulf rapidly descended into madness. Within a year, in his diseased mind, he had decided to leave the castle and so dismiss the ghosts in his mind.
When he disappeared, little was heard of him, though Boroldo sent out many batallions to search for his friend and advisor, never was he found. At best an occasional rumour of a ragged vagabond, devoid of any sanity, crying out for his loved ones, was heard by the king but no trustworthy sightings.
And so the years passed, a new king came to the throne. Galandor was the son of Boroldo, he succeeded his father after the sudden death of the former king. Galandor soon proved himself to be a bad king, evil men surrounded him and the land suffered. The people lived in misery under heavy taxes and the fear of both thieves and king.
In this time, Garulf had passed out of the people's immediate thoughts but still he remained in the stories, a reminder of better times and a hope to the hearts of the people. Everybody expected that he had died by now, but Garulf still walked the earth. His hair now aas white as fresh snow, or it would have been if it was not dirty, from the mud and undergrowth where he slept.