It was silver, etched with gold and small rubies but still large enough to demand respect. Val admired the simple beauty of the throne from his helmeted gaze. He arrived at the throne itself, empty of course, he had arrived early as he usually did to such important meetings. This new information was concerning, for if the Scorned showed intelligence, then they were killing them all because they wanted to. He should have noticed the trap, but they all had thought the creatures were mindless. It was a shock to find that Westgate had fallen, but that was why he had been sent, to see why the enemy were withdrawing. Val had just returned from the Scorned zone, as the Templar's called it. They had lost a lot of good people over those two years, and things were only getting worse. No easy task, especially when the damn things wailed and alerted more to your presence. Once the Scorn arrived, the Templar of Arcanum were tasked with going behind enemy lines and studying it. He hadn't been to Dramon in what felt like years, and walking through the throne room brought back a wave of nostalgia. Val was on far better terms with the Emperor, he had even received an official resignation of his duties once. The Prince nodded in passing and that was when he was first starting out years ago. Granted, he was only guarding the perimeter and the prince had gone out for some fresh air with his wife, Collette.
He had only met the prince once, at a ball no doubt, but he left a good impression on him. The Scorned would pay for what they did to the Sol Protectorate, and for Prince Lucius.
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All of his feats had not gone unnoticed, plus he would never refuse the call for the Empire. He wasn't sure why, but Val thought it was probably how well he distinguished himself over the years. Today was the day, Emperor Darsun the third had hand picked him to lead the mission to the Ebony Mountain. Val held his head high as he strode into the throne room. And then he was struck, and everything faded. He began to shout a rallying cry as he walked down those stone steps towards the chaos, "TO ME MEN! WE SHALL FIGHT ONE LAST TIME! FOR HOME! FOR COUNTRY! FOR SURVIVAL! NOW FIGHT! FIGHT!" As Lucius jumped into the fray with the honorable men and women of the Sol Protectorate, he smiled. His men put up a defiant stand all around him. Lucius exited the building overlooking the courtyard, a mass of green things scurried through the gaping hole where the gates used to be. One never truly got used to them, they were just so unnatural. And the creatures bestial wails that followed. Westgate shook again, and in the distance he could hear men screaming. Lucius slumped ever so slightly, but he grabbed his sword and left he room in the opposite direction. Obrien stood tall, bowed then left in a hurry. "Good, then go! Get that letter to Emperor." Lucius said again.
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Obrien's face was full of sorrow but he shook his head. Do I make myself clear?" he said sternly. "Take this letter to my father, get the wounded out and back to Dramon with haste. Lucius grabbed his letter, and sealed it with wax. What do we do?" The captain said gruffly. "Mi'lord Lucius, they've broken through, we can't hold them any longer.
A knock at the door came then and captain Obrien rushed inside promptly. The room shook again, and the man put on his crown. Somehow those mindless monsters had thought to give them a false sense of hope, and it worked. They thought they had started to gain ground again, but it was just a ruse. But as the room shook again the man sighed, he was tired from the fighting, from the war. It was a short message, to the point, he only wished it could be longer. The only light in that small room was a waning candle that sat next to the parchment he scribbled frantically on.