Downfall

Alexander Drakenguard II, sole heir to the Enolan throne lay with his back flat against the cool, stone floor of a glass domed sun-lit chamber. Before the royal prince stood an imposing, but familiar figure. His features were mostly forgettable, common, but two things stood out- on his right arm was articulated plate mail, and resting on his back was a massive broadsword Alexander knew as the Slaughterer's Star.

"M-Marik, what are you doing?" asked Alex.

Marik's bottom lip quivered as he addressed the boy.

"What I have to."

Marik heaved his massive sword over his head and with striking accuracy impaled Alexander's midsection. It was a violent stab, and blood catapulted past the prince's lips. He struggled to catch his breath as his vision faded. Marik then retrieved his sword and retreated towards an inner chamber. Just then, a group of several warriors burst into the chamber. One among them, dressed from head to toe in lustrous white armor ran over to Alexander. He looked the prince in the face through the visor of his helmet as the light was fading from Alex's eyes.

"It's him!" confirmed the figure."You, you, and you-" pointed out the man, "- you tend to the prince. The rest of you come with me! We must save the regent!"

With three of their group left behind to tend to the dying Alexander, the rest pursued the lethal assassin. They sprinted through the halls of the grand palace. They had no time to observe the extravagant tapestries and portraits lining the palace hallways. The foremost of their troupe whispered to himself as they hurried to the regent's aid.

"I hope we're not too late..."

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How did this happen? Where did this all begin?



"Id... HEY ID!!!! ICARUS DODD!"

A tall, handsome man, of fair skin and blond hair turned towards the source of the yelling. It was a man several years his junior- one of the newly promoted officers, fresh out of the academy. Though he was a White Knight, Icarus knew he had to answer to authority.

"Yes, sir." Icarus replied unemphatically.

The young man handed Id a scroll stamped with the Regent's seal.

"You are to report to the regent at once. No questions, no detours. NOW."

Several other officers had handed identical scrolls to many within the White Knight division. Among them were Earl Set, Mister Saec, Herter, and others. They were all to report to the regent at immediately.

Heading to Renna’s quarters, Earl made his way across the courtyard with a quick, constant pace, saluting every soldier he came across. There was scroll in his hand with the Regent’s seal already broken. Apparently, Skoll wanted to see him in his chamber asap. However, Captain Renna had made it specifically clear that he should report to her EVERY time he intended to leave his post, as she didn’t have the patience to go looking for him should she need anything.
Knocking on the door, Earl waited for a reply that never came. Instead, one of the soldiers approached him to let him know about captain Renna’s whereabouts.
-Lieutenant, sir.- the young conscript saluted –I’m sorry, sir, the captain’s not in her quarters at this time.-
-Did she say where she was going?-
After the soldier shook his head, Earl let out a subtle sigh.
-Thank you, soldier. Dismissed.-
Looking around the courtyard one last time, Earl turned his gaze towards the sky and saw that it was a clear that morning, not a single cloud in the sky. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from the side.
-Ah, ze legendary Iron Hand, juzt ze man I vaz looking for!-
The accent in Captain Alester’s voice was as thick as the weird paste they served each morning at the dinning hall. The man was a veteran of the Enolan army, known for his ruthlessness and brilliant schemes. He wore an eye patch over one of his left eye, the most notable characteristic of his appearance.
-Captain.- Earl saluted reluctantly, and though his expression could not be seen, it was obvious that captain Alester’s presence bothered him.
-Come, let’z take a valk.-
Wrapping his arm over Earl’s shoulders, the captain began to direct him towards the Regent’s chamber.
-I heard zat ze Regent haz zummoned you. Any idea vhy?-
Earl remained awkwardly silent before replying with a simple “No”.
-Vell, I take it you ztill remember our arrangement?-
-I won’t kill Skoll, if that’s what concerns you.-
-I zee.- Alester chuckled with feign affability –Good. Zen I have nozin’ to vorry about.-
After a few minutes of treading, the captain and Earl finally arrived before Skoll’s chamber.
-Zhould any harm come to ze regent, you know ze deal’z off.
-I understand.- replied Earl, shaking the captain’s arm off his shoulders –But I’d also like to remind you; should any harm come to her, I swear I’ll kill everyone, all of you.-
Captain Alester broke down in laughter.
-Zure, I’m a man of my word.
Walking away towards Skoll’s chamber, Earl saluted the guards at either side of the door without even looking back at the captain.
-I am as well. You better remember that.-

"So he summons us again," murmured Saec, grasping the scroll in his right hand as he stared at it with unblinking eyes, "But what has he found this time I wonder? All the other leads...too little, too late. If this wasn't done in such a haphazard manner, perhaps Enola would have won this war long ago."

Shaking his head, Saec began to walk leisurely towards the regent's receiving chamber. He never looked forward to these meetings, and hoped that Skoll's attention would be on the others of more important rank. It was his belief that the more those in charge took notice of you, the more your life was in jeopardy. Nobles and kings had special interest in the private lives of those who served them, and the secrets they could find were dangerous. In addition, when you merited the attention of a noble, that far too often meant they wanted you to do something that would require you to risk your life. Still, if he feared death, he would not have joined the ranks of the White Knights. The White Knights...never in all his years did he believe he would join such a group, but here he was, embroiled in their battles even as he continued his search. But it was a perfect plan. Instead of avoiding Enola's increasingly expansive presence, it was much better just to blend in. And blending in was his arte. Looking up, he nodded at the guards defending the throne room before entering and waiting quietly towards the back of the room.

The strike came as a bolt of lightning. Asunder’s cold steel sliced through the air, its edge barely missing the tip of Rosalind’s nose before striking the harsh surface of the ground. The blow was powerful enough to crack the earth open, sinking it beneath their feet to form a small crater.

What had started as a sparring session was now a full-fledged fight.

-You’re quick, I’ll give you that.- Renna declared with a straight face; her gaze meeting Rosalind’s across the short space between them.

"You have to be when you are my size" Rosalind said with a giggle. "But you are very fast yourself."

The vampire darted around Renna. Red eyes searched for an open spot in Renna's defenses. The vampire's white armor's was very light and flexible. This allowed her much more flexibility and quickness than average plate armor. She lunged for Renna, who dodged the blow. Rosalind landed on her hands and flipped back to face her.

This last one simply stood there, watching and studying the young vampire: every movement, every gesture, measuring her physical capabilities.

-I heard you went on a mission to look for Mercury's Mirror five years ago. Is it true that you were there during Elder Skye's last moments?-
"Yep, got to feed from him just before he kicked it." Rosalind said, her red eyes glistened a bit from the memory. "Essence is always so much better from someone with magic."

Taking advantage of the vampire's brief recollection of memories, Renna dashed forward with a diagonal swing. This time, however, she let go of Asunder's hilt, throwing it in the manner of a flying propeller towards Rosalind. The captain knew that her opponent would evade it easily and thus prepared a pair of throwing daggers, one on each hand, to engage the vampire as soon as she was focused on dodging.

Rosalind dodged to the right to avoid Asunder and looked up to see a pair of throwing daggers flying at her face. She ducked under one and grabbed the other. Unfortunately she grabbed the blade.

"Mother of FUCK" She swore loudly as she dropped the dagger.

It was in that instant that Renna appeared, rushing at full speed, catching Rosalind's face with a lariat before slamming her to the ground.

"Damn, you're fast."

Gaining some distance from the vampire, Renna went for the sword nailed into the wall of the training chamber.

-But we both know you’re faster. Is pretty little Rosalind holding back, I wonder?-
"Hold back? Why would I wanna do that, Renna?" Rosalind asked.

Turning her attention back to the young vampire, Renna offered her a faint playful smile.

-I don't know, maybe because you’re annoyed that the Regent has summoned you to his chamber and you’re looking for a pretext not to go? What better excuse than being pummeled by a captain during a sparring session.-

Rosalind stuck her tongue out at Renna.

"Nah, that's just silly, why would I LET you hurt me. I suppose I just haven't eaten in a bit. I'll need to grab a bite."

Renna could probably see the beads of sweat had begun to form on the vampire's forehead and neck. She looked paler than normal, if that was even possible.

Letting out a sigh, Renna rested the blunt side of her sword on her shoulder and approached Rosalind.

-Look at you, Rosalind. You always look so sick.- she stated, offering a hand to the young vampire to help her stand -Have you ever considered that that nasty addiction of yours might just be the end of you one day?-
"I'm not addicted, besides it's easier to get artificial stuff than the real deal. Vampires ain’t as low key as they used to be" Rosalind said with a shrug. "See you later, Ren, I've gotta go get some essence in me and see the Regent."

Looking at the vampire while she took her leave, Renna crooked her cheek as a sign of disapproval, but said nothing.

Rosalind swiftly walked away. She eventually made her way to her tent where she dug through her chest. Soon enough, she pulled out a corked bottle. The liquid within swirled and shimmered with an ethereal light. It glowed an unnatural cyan as it writhed beautifully in the clear bottle. She popped the cork out of the bottle and held it to her lips. Rosalind jerked her head back and took desperate gulps from the bottle. She drained it and set the bottle down, her eyes closed. Rosalind sat for a moment, limp as if sedated.

Finally she stood and went to see the Regent.

Felix flexed his left arm absentmindedly as he looked for his next finger hold. The 'impregnable' wall of the castle was not so invincible after all, and he had gathered a small crowd of astonished onlookers. It was one of the more difficult climbs he had run this year, especially given that he couldn't drive any pitons into the wall for safety, but the thrill was riding high in his blood. Two fingers snaked into a growing crack in the mortar, and he slowly slid his feet up into a crouch. His right hand went to the powder pouch on the back of his belt, and smeared an orange chalk along the crack. Felix leaned back, surveying the little lines of orange snaking up to his position while wiping sweat off his forehead with his forearm.

Almost there. Only about forty feet to go... What a sucker bet... A smooth move allowed his right hand to clamp down like a vise on small rough out-cropping of stone. It was getting harder to find holds as he was getting towards the top. The plasterwork on the wall was much smoother, and Felix's arms were going from a burn to feeling like molten lava. Nothing to it...

“What do you guys think now?!” A cheer arose from the Scouts mingled in the crowd, while the regular guards groaned audibly.
“You ain't done yet! You can't finish!” One guard began heckling him.
“Sure he can!” The scouts began chanting, “Felix, Felix, Felix!”
“He'll fall, and we get the pot!” The sergeant of the guard was sweating just as much as Felix, about to lose a month's pay.
“Please! A veteran outrider never falls!” Felix move explosively, but still smoothly, gaining another twenty feet in as many seconds while the crowd argued below. Breaths started increasingly rapidly.
“Ao's beard, I'm out of shape.” Felix muttered to himself. He continued climbing carefully and smoothly, ignoring the molten fire running through his forearms. Four feet from the battlements, there were no more holds to go up withing ten feet of either direction. Felix cursed rapidly with the realization he went off his planned route. His arms started shaking, and adrenaline rushed through his body at the thought of falling. Terror and anger mixed and roiled.

“You guys ready for a show?” Felix shouted. He continued in a lower voice, “You can do it, you can do it, you can do it!” He took one deep breath, and dyno'ed up the last four feet. His right hand caught, slid, and then stopped in one panicked spasm of anxiety. A final spurt of effort secured the second hand over the slope and Felix laboriously pulled himself up to the cheers of the scouts. He rolled over the edge, and panted. He rested for half a minute. A loud roar of victory was met with uneasy, officious seeming silence. The messenger from the court glared up at him, no doubt offended by the impropriety.

“Uhh, looking for me?!”
“Scout Felix Kalan?”
“Yes!”
“You are commanded to appear before the Regent!” The man turned to leave, and was interrupted by Felix.
“What, you mean, like, Officially?”
“Yes.” The icy glared chilled Felix's blood.
“Full formal wear?!” Hope rapidly drained away by the pause and measured response.
“Yes!” Felix grimaced and the man swept away in a huff.

The guards at the top stopped chuckling when Felix turned a murderous glare on the pair. The captain in charge was leaning over the wall, clucking at the marks. He jotted a few notes on a notebook, and shook his head. “Maintainence will be interesting, we should maintain the walls' integrity. You should hurry and change for your appointment. Try not to rub skin off in less than a day this time.”
“Thanks Brandon, you're all heart. I guess I should tell your boys that you bet on me.”
“You wouldn't dare! Where would you get your rubes the next time?” The lowly guards nodded, and chuckled a bit more. They had been warned ahead of time, and were apparently trusted.

“Fine, you win again. Buy me a beer.” Felix stomped off to go changed into his official plate armor.

"We going to see important person! We going to see Regent, yes?!" A small Melesian asked his fellow traveller. A Viala who seemed strangely at peace as the small mole person literally ran circles around him.

"Yes Herter, now if you don't mind, could you stop running circles around me." The Viala responded, only to be ignored by the smaller being once again.

"Can't Breshkin! I'm too worked up! Need to run, to work, to invent! Energy! Energy! Energy!" Herter continued to run around in circles until Breshkin stuck out a foot and watched as Herter went face first into the dirt.

"That is why you don't run circles around people." Bresh stated as Herter spit out some dirt.

"That wasn't very nice! I demand apology!" Herter yelled after Bresh.

"Alright, I'm sorry you're stupid enough to get tripped by a Vialan while running circles around him." Bresh's pace didn't stop, and Herter eventually caught up.

"I have Boom balls! Don't insult person with Boom Balls."

"Don't run circles around someone who's legs are longer than your body." Bresh retaliated. Herter just frowned, then looked up at Breshkin through blue glowing 'eyes'.

"No fun, you be no fun."

"You need to calm yourself before we see the Regent, he won't tolerate your hyper activity." Breshkin stated as they neared the gate. Herter simply stared at the construct.

"That is very large!" Herter stated as they drew nearer. A couple guards were stationed on either side of the gate. As they got closer, the guards approached them.

"Welcome Viala. What is you-" The guard was cut off as Herter ran up and started banging on his plate leggings.

"Very strong metal indeed...hmmm...Stand up to Boom?" Herter took out one of his Boom Balls and Bresh rushed over and took it out of his hands. Herter yelled after him. "You can't stop science! Science!" Bresh just gave a slight smile towards the guards.

"He's a bit eccentric..." The guards looked at him through their face plate.

"It would seem that way. What's the purpose of your visit?"

"We've been summoned to see the Regent. Here are our papers." Breshkin reached into his sack, and pulled out the unsealed letter that had been sent not to him, but Herter. As the guard looked it over, Herter kept jumping up to grab it.

"My letter! Me important! I make Boom Balls!" Bresh grabbed Herter's hood, and yanked him hard behind him. Herter fell backwards and rolled slightly. The guard finished reading it, and nodded, handing the letter back.

"Alright, you can enter. Word to the wise Vialan, keep those weapons of yours holstered." The guard pointed to the spear and shield on Breshkin's back and sword on his hip, and Bresh nodded. He made to go, but when he looked back, Herter was nowhere to be found. Bresh looked forward, and Herter had literally climbed on top of the guard and was pounding on his face plate.

"Interesting design! Very thorough! Can you see? Can I see? Sight must be valid! Protect from Boom Ball? How you breath?" Bresh grabbed the Melesian and tucked him underneath his arm. "SCIENCE!" Herter yelled as Bresh pushed past the guards into the complex. Herter yelled back at the guards. "I will be back! Tests must be done! Science will be accomplished!"

"Herter, take some advice, and don't anger the guards." Bresh stated as he threw Herter onto the ground. The gate closed behind them, and Herter snapped up as if nothing had happened.

"They wore interesting armour! Armour must be examined! Weaknesses must be attained!"

"Yeah, well keep it up and your weakness will be a gauntlet to the face." Bresh retaliated as they came up to the main building.

"Hmmm..." Herter put a hand up to his chin. "Gauntlet to face...defence mechanism?"

"You could say that..." Bresh stated as they finished climbing the steps.

"Oh, very interesting! STAIRS!" Herter looked down and started hopping up the stairs. "Concrete, very sturdy! Weak to Boom Balls! Structurally inadequate versus the genius of explosions!" Bresh took a deep breath, and opened the door to the main building where the Regent was housed.

"Yes, very. Can we go in now?" Herter looked up at Bresh, then the open door.

"Regent must be seen!" Herter yelled as he ran into the open door waving his arms in the air. "I am important person! Obey me! Important!" His voice echoed off the walls as he got further and further inside, and Breshkin rubbed his forehead. It was hard enough to control him under normal circumstances, but when he was excited, it was damn near impossible. He hoped that the little mole wouldn't do anything to embarass them, but he knew that was a forlorn hope at best. He gave one last sigh and entered the door.

"Herter! Get back here before you blow another hole in a wall!" Bresh yelled after him.

"Accident!"

Sitting cross legged in the center of her small quarters, Ukarahu inhaled the incense lightly, exhaling a light cloud of its smoke from her lips. The scents stilled every thought and blazing desire, leaving her with an appearance of placid thought, as many of her comrades had come to expect of her. Tapping a finger against her knee, the Tallonite turned her head slowly to the hunkered form of Thrall, who shuffled about awkwardly in his ‘corner’. Fitting the titanic creature inside her quarters was a task, but there was little else she could do about it. He got antsy whenever she went away for too long, and if left to his own devices, the palace guard would likely drag him into a fighting ring or something equally foolish.

As if sensing her thoughts, the war beast looked up from its ‘nest’, pupil less eyes watching her curiously. Before she could speak, sharp ears caught the fast approaching footfalls, and the Tallonite rose from the floor swiftly. The footsteps stopped, and she crossed the room to pull the door open before the stranger even knocked. One of the officers, young, likely a fresh graduate, blinked in surprise once or twice, before clearing his throat and fixing the stern look the young ones always seemed to favour. She inclined her head slightly, willing to listen to whatever he wanted to say.

The officer held out a scroll, bearing the regent’s seal, and the corners of her lips down turned ever so slightly. “Uk…Uka…” He paused, squinting at the curious name. She watched him murmur to himself about its exact pronunciation for a minute, before her eyes narrowed in annoyance and she cupped the small man’s chin with her hand and leaned close to his face.

“Ukarahu.” He flustered and stuttered in her grip, and she growled in her throat, tightening her hold on his jaw. “Ukarahu.”

“Ukarahu! Okay!” She released him, mismatched eyes falling back to dull disinterest. The officer gave her a curious look, before continuing. “Ukarahu, you are to report to the Regent immediately. No delays.” There was a silence, and for a moment, the officer wondered if the strange woman had even heard what he’d said. Finally, she nodded, gently pushing the door shut. She stood silent on the other side, listening until the hesitant steps of the officer finally faded into the rush of the barracks around her.

“Thrall.”

He perked up at his name, rising as high as he could in the tight confines. Even with the roof shunting him to a more manageable size, the war beast dwarfed her, making the way he lingered on her every word almost comedic. Almost. It was difficult to look at either of them and think hilarity. “Yes?” The war beast’s voice was rough and coarse from disuse, a privilege he’d never really had in the past.

“The Regent wishes to see me. It’s likely we’ll need to travel. Ready our things.” He nodded obediently and she pulled on her white plate armour silently. Leaving the war beast to his task, Ukarahu strode from her chambers, weaving through the barracks with all haste. The regent wasn’t one to wait patiently, and the longer she took, the easier it was to earn his ire. That was simply unacceptable.

Shortly before she arrived to his chambers, the knight was nearly bowled over by a rushing Melesian, followed very closely by a Viala, who muttered an apology as he continued after what she could only assume was his charge.

They’ll let anything into the palace these days…

It was only then she realized the two where headed in the same direction as her. Scowling behind her helm’s visor, the Tallonite moved after the two, following in their chaotic wake till eventually they reached the Regent’s chambers.

She entered slowly, noting those present with a quick flick of her eyes, before moving deeper into the room. With luck, the regent would see them quickly.

Rosalind's steps echoed through the storied halls of the Enolan palace. Gold embroidered, deep blue tapestries bearing the royal insignia of the Drakenguard bloodline lined the hallway to the throne room. Also lining the otherwise plain stone walls were full body, life size portraits of all past kings in the Enolan bloodline. They wore lavish robes made of thick bear hide and died blue, with gold trim, like the tapestries. Meanwhile, their hands and necks were adorned with gold jewelry and atop their heads was the same tall golden crown inlaid with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and a singular essence crystal dead center which glowed brilliantly, as if real. However, the real surprise would await in the corridor right before the throne room's great doors, for standing guard at either side of the hallway were the Regent's Black Knights, elite soldiers wearing black steel sets of armor, chosen from birth and raised with a single purpose: to protect Enola's rulers. Standing by the threshold as Rosalind came into the corridor, Earl shifted his attention towards her.

-Mayor.- he greeted, saluting his superior in rank with a military gesture -You here to see the Regent as well?-

As Rosalind and Earl stood chatting before the Regent's Black Knights, the familiar clank of the White Knight's formal armor rang through the hallway, reaching the pair. The man was known as Id, though his real name was Icarus Dodd. He was a handsome man by most accounts, sporting well kempt blonde hair. His sword rested on his hip, and his helmet under his armpit. It was rare to see the man known as Id out of uniform. He wore a curt smile on his face. He had a feeling, an inkling of what this was about. He had been waiting since his last assignment, which ended in failure and demotion a year ago. He approached Rosalind and Earl with his curt smile. He then interrupted the conversation between Rosalind and Earl.

"Well, we musn't dilly dally now. It's best not to keep him waiting."

"Hello there," Rosalind said sweetly. "-and yes, I am."

Rosalind looked around at the Black Knights and nodded respectfully to the group. She was, much to her disdain, wearing her formal White Knight heavy plate armor. Rosalind had always preferred light leather armor to the heavy sort they had her wear. Attached to the hook where her weapon would have been was a velvet bag that clinked slightly as she walked. Rosalind never went far without a small supply of artificial essence. One of her small, spindly hands was placed protectively over the bag. Her other hand held her helmet. Her black hair shone under the light given off by the torches in the room and she was much better groomed than usual. She more closely resembled her human self, a young noble woman as opposed to an essence crazed vampire. Earl then addressed Icarus.

-Captain Dodd, permission to speak my mind freely, sir.- Earl replied. He was by no means a boot licker, but he did stick to military protocol quite rigorously. After all, that's the way Renna liked to keep things in her company.

"Permission granted, Earl."

As eager as Icarus was to enter the throne room, he felt compelled to hear Earl speak. Besides arguments over battle plans and strategy, Earl seldom spoke, so when he did, it was important to listen.

-Just wanted to remind you that when addressing an officer of higher rank, sir, you must do so properly. After all, you're no longer a general...sir.-

Although he tried to keep his tone as impartial as possible, it was obvious that Earl's voice carried a faint trace of spite. For this, Icarus ground his teeth. It wasn't exactly easy to adjust to a demotion, especially such a harsh demotion. He'd been knocked down several ranks from General to Captain.

"Yes... noted, Earl. Mayor, I suggest we proceed."

"Of course," Rosalind said with a smile.

Icarus walked by Rosalind as they approached the Black Knights. The Black Knights stood motionless, their faces hidden behind black helms shaped like the gaping maw of a dragon. In the right hand of either guard was held a halberd forged of black steel, and sharper than most every other weapon, able to cleave clean through the toughest of armors. As Icarus approached the throne room door, their halberds crossed, permitting no entry. This movement, like every movement of the Black Knight's was so uniform, so sharp, precise, and crisp. Even something like that, executed with the reflexes of cat, took years of training.

"Papers," the guard on the right demanded.

Icarus handed him the scroll of summons which bore the Regent's seal, as did Earl, and Rosalind. Then, in just as precise a motion, the guards moved back to their stone-like posts. Not so much as a finger was out of place. Icarus pushed open the double doors to the throne room and entered. It was a mighty chamber, but significantly smaller than the pillared throne room of the Golden Palace of Gornada. It was short, but wide, and four Black Knights stood on either side of a red velvet carpet leading towards the ivory throne on which the Grand Regent Skoll Arkenhand sat.

Skoll was a ghastly figure, and seemed sickly. He was as thin as a twig, and his fair skin seemed to cover nothing but bones. His cheek frame jutted out from his face creating an almost skeletal visage. Raven black hair fell over his eyes, and he wore a robe like the past kings of Enola, and much too big for his bony and frail frame. It was hard to believe this man was once Grand Marshall, and even harder to believe his war-like tendencies. He was young, but his face showed age well beyond his years, and his eyes seemed tired, dead. All the gold in the world, and he was wearing plenty, could not contrast the unnerving darkness of his character.

As Icarus, Rosalind, and Earl joined Herter and a couple others, the Regent commanded them all.

"Bow before your Regent, sole protector and governor of the realm."

Rosalind dropped to one knee along with the others; in her mind she wondered how exactly Skoll had managed to get so scrawny. It was rare that she saw a human who looked as pale as she did. As Rosalind and the others bowed before Skoll, Earl lingered a bit. When everyone else was already on their knees, he still stood. Somewhat insulted, the Grand Regent Skoll Arkenhand leaned forward on his ivory throne. He had a scepter in his right hand. The scepter made a metallic clang as Skoll slammed it against the floor of the throne room five times.

"You will bow before your Regent, White Knight."

After a few seconds of silence, Earl finally knelt.

-Forgive me, great sire.- he said plainly.
The frail looking Regent sat back in his throne again. He sighed, and brushed his raven black hair out of his eyes. Then, he proceeded to wave his hand, allowing the White Knights to rise. Subsequently, Icarus addressed the Regent.

"Sire, why have we been sum-"

"You have been summoned here, because it is time. It is time for a shift in power. I have dutifully fulfilled my post as the Grand Regent of Enola. Long have I searched for the lost prince Alexander to relieve me of my service to this grand kingdom. He has been found."

Rosalind blinked. Skoll smirked.
"Alexander Drakenguard II has been found. Alas, his recovery remains out of reach. I am asking you all to transcend this war. You must do something... that has not been done in centuries. I am asking you to journey across the sea, to an ancient land. There, there is where you'll find Alexander."

Icarus silently stood before the throne of the Regent. Redemption. That was the singular word that echod in his mind. He would redeem himself. He looked to Earl as the knight lifted his head up a bit, then asked for permission to talk. Once it was granted, he spoke.

-Why us...sire?-

Rosalind held back a gulp as Earl addressed Skoll. Her immediate thought was how much essence she would have to bring to keep her alive and sated throughout the journey. Speaking of essence, the need was ensnaring her thoughts. Rosalind could feel the clinking of the bottles against her armor- each quiet tone took more and more of her focus. Finally the vampire spoke.

"Of course sire."

After nodding, Skoll spoke to Earl.
"Why, you? You are all elite warriors in your own right. You all have been specially chosen; whether for loyalty, toughness, swordsmanship. You are the best chance we have. Do you accept your task?"

-Why not send the Black Knights instead, sire?- Earl insisted. It was obvious he was going to give the Regent a run for his money.

Skoll shifted in his chair. It seemed highly unlikely he was going to let a White Knight unsettle him.

"The Black Knights remain here for the sole protection of the crown of Enola. As for you, you all have traits, skills, and personalities expressly suited for this journey. You cannot fail; you must return.”

Earl said no more after that. He knew anything else would just be insolence.

“Very well, you will depart a week from today. The shipwrights have built a vessel, a grand and mighty vessel to carry you across the sea. I have also hired an excellent and willing captain and crew. This will be no easy journey. Use this time to say goodbye to relatives, write wills, what have you, but you will leave in a week. Any attempted escapes will be considered treason. Your regent has spoken, my will shall be done.”

The group was dismissed.
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Icarus Dodd lowered himself onto a simple wooden stool. Every muscle in his body relaxed as he hunched over. His helmet rolled off his lap and onto the crude floorboards of his humble home. His right arm began shaking uncontrollably and he gripped his well kempt hair as if in pain. Icarus groaned, and ground his teeth together. He then grabbed the sides of his body and wiped the beads of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. Id began to rock back and forth on his stool. No one knew. They could never know. Try as he might, he could no longer resist. He shot up from his wooden stool and shuffled over to his bedside. He pulled open a drawer and tossed several papers and others contents onto the house floor. Finally, he pulled a vial of what he needed out of the drawer and stared wild-eyed at its contents- artificial essence.

Id swallowed the vial of artificial essence as though parched. The White Knights were very used to seeing an artificial essence addict, Rosalind, but Icarus had gone to great lengths to conceal his vice. For years, he had been secretly addicted to the deadly toxin. It granted him great strength, speed, and reflexes, but that’s not why he had taken it up. In the wake of his demotion, he was devastated. He needed a way to rise up above his peers, and he needed something to grasp on to while he bided his time until an opportunity for redemption appeared. The time had come, but this terrible habit had betrayed him. He had to talk to Rosalind.