The one responsible for the charismatic and regal voice was none other than the current King of Knights. And in reply, the Knights in front of him --with each having the capabilities to be arrogant and overbearing just from their power alone-- saluted, which was simultaneously followed with the chorus of scraping steel and deep thuds. Their movements, even down to the minute details such as the position of their feet were refined and disciplined; all to show their utmost and genuine respect to their liege.

Finally completing the formality, they seated decisively in sync --swiftly and deftly-- starting a new chorus of thuds as the seats beneath them absorbed the sudden impact from their weights. A terrifying sight that would put a professional army to shame.

With this wonderful display of discipline and power, the King of Knights deeply nodded and beamed with a gentle smile as if to express both his satisfaction and gratitude that his Order of Knights hadn’t deteriorated during a time of relative peace--a time when the kingdom wasn’t in immediate danger. But when he realized this train of thought, he frowned, for that peace would most likely be destroyed soon.

It was a frown that was perceptible to everyone in the room--completely forcing all to be aware that something was amiss, and when added with the fact that almost all of the Order’s powerful persons were summoned, it only helped fuel the doubts in their hearts. Why were they summoned? What forced the Order to mobilize their most powerful for a council meeting? Such questions were conjured in their thoughts--but alas, those questions couldn’t be voiced until their liege addressed them first.

The King of Knights shifted in his seat, a move that was prominently noticeable, especially in a room full of individuals whom each was a paragon of etiquette and discipline. Was the purpose of this move to get their attention? Or was their a deeper meaning behind? But regardless, he spoke, in order to quell their anxiety and doubts.

“I assume that everyone other than the Grandmasters that I came with, are completely unaware of the situation that is currently unfolding in the Great Continent of Astorrah.” He paused to gaze at his Knights, and in his eyes was suppressed rage.

“That is to be expected considering our Kingdom have been in a state of relative peace ever since the Great War of the Nether had ended. As of the present --other than a few High Marshals leading the annual crusades-- most of our combat force are lacking in actual field experience; with the bulk of their skills only applicable in spars and training. But the peace that allowed such circumstances to arise, is on the verge of breaking down. The very same peace that required the many lives of our fellow Knights.”

And suddenly, his voice grew a level in magnitude. It sounded more resolute, but tinged with unbridled rage. It was a voice unbefitting for a King.

“And the ones responsible are those avaricious fools!” He slammed the armrest of his Throne in anger, with an indent being clearly made. The sound echoed off in the enclosed room, shattering the somber atmosphere. On the expressions of most, was surprise.

“Those fools grew astonishingly brazen over the years--over the years of peace since the Great War. They had mistaken our kindness as a glaring weakness! And thusly decided to bite back the hands that had helped them at that time...” As his words trailed off, he slowly slumped back onto his Throne like a puppet that had its strings cut. The fire in his eyes grew even stronger, but this time, it was repressed by a hint of strong disappointment, and traces of deep regret. His gaze was now unfocused--he was not looking at anything particular, like he was staring from afar.

What happened to force their King to this state? The same King whom was known as ‘The Undaunted?’ But despite the King’s current state, the Knights never even thought of him as incompetent or lacking.

“...Those fools whom we had assumed as our friends --our allies-- that fought alongside us during the Great War have betrayed us.” By now, The King’s voice was hoarse. “Our kindness at the time, the kindness we unhesitatingly gave out that had saved their Kingdom from an undesirable fate has now been returned with the threat of annihilation... All to satisfy their greed.”

Suddenly the atmosphere grew colder and felt... still. Like a void that consumed all signs of life appeared in the room. At that moment, a tangible pressure could be felt by everyone. Everything visibly shook and groaned like an invisible weight had laid down on them, but the groaning and the shaking didn’t stop there--it further rose in intensity as time went on. The comfortable breeze that once occupied the room had stopped; the air in the room was declining. Even immaterial light itself did not go unmolested, as it grew distorted and warped. Vision was gradually lost, and soon, the other senses followed.

Some flinched and some had expressions of slight pain; there was an unknown power encompassing everything in the room. But no signs of shock nor surprise could be seen on the faces of anyone at all. There was no fear or despair, just indifference. Even under the duress of an incomprehensible power, not one collapsed.

After a brief moment of suffocating silence, the King recovered himself from his short stupor and sluggishly straightened his posture on the Throne. And the overbearing pressure also dissipated into the void. In turn, vision, sound, and air violently rushed back to their rightful place; an upheaval was made as ornaments and items that were not able to resist the sudden change were chaotically thrown about. The room bore the signs of a calamity passing through.

“I apologise for the unseemly display.“ The King softly bowed. “I am currently unfit to continue any further, thus I will request one of the Grandmasters to carry on in my place. Malkador.”

In response, a man seating just beside the King stood up. It was the man who had the air of a charismatic leader, the same kind as the King. He walked just a few steps ahead and graciously turned towards the King, and gave a deep bow. “I hear and obey.” He said in a voice that was perfectly clear, and with an enunciation comparable to the soft flow of water and wine. A voice that could even be said to swoon any women that had heard it. The King, gestured him in a regal manner, to proceed.

The man nodded and he swiftly turned once more, towards the Knights. He seemed unfazed, even after being subjected to the pressure from before. And with a refined but swift pace, he walked to a glowing pedestal right in front of him.

With a hand sweep over the glowing pedestal located precisely in the middle of a room. A spectral map that could cover at least half of the room appeared above. It was an amazing piece of the quasi-magic their Order was renowned for. And on it was the Great Continent of Astorrah.

The map was both mysterious and ethereal in form: it could be seen through if one focused hard enough, and imperceptible if touched. And it sways to and fro, as if it was in an open field. It glistens with a silver glow that soothes the senses of anyone who would see it.

After confirming that the pedestal worked as intended, Malkador continued on where the King had stopped. Standing there in a haughty manner.

“Wars have erupted all over the Great Continent of Astorrah. Cities have been massacred, towns plundered, and lands have been taken. The continent is now in a state of total war.“

By now, an intense glow appeared at the northern part of the map before it dimmed once more. But this time, it was pulsing softly in accordance to a certain cadence.

“To the cold, barren wastelands of the North, the corruption of the Nether spontaneously grew in strength--almost rivaling the corruption we had faced before during the Great War. And as of now, the three Crusades that were tasked to stand on guard, is currently keeping the Corruption at bay. But reports have just came that the situation seems terrifyingly grim, as the Corruption has been determined to be growing in strength still. It is inevitable for the battle line to fall if this continued on. And most terrifying of all, rumors suggested that a Chosen-- an Undying of the Nether have been spotted leading them.”

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With that, Alaric and a few shifted in their seats --clearly, they were agitated by the sudden news. But before they could show their disbelief, Malkador continued on, heedless of their agitation.

And this time, the glow appeared at the eastern part.

“While to the Great Forests of the East, the Elves, after years of solitude have finally arisen once more. And in their wake, the lands beyond the Great Forests have been conquered in the name of their new Elven High King –completely making it barren from life other than their own. Exterminating anything that is not of Elven kind; a farcry to their once peaceful nature. And even more distressing is that the Great Forests are growing in response, extending their reach to the freshly conquered lands --a kingdom that lives and breathes. A danger to all, if left unkept.”

Some who were considered fairly familiar with the Elves had expressions of absolute shock. To them, this was something that was almost impossible to believe. And to add, with how things are, they had to face them eventually in the foreseeable future which only made them even more wary and anxious, especially the ones who experienced their eldritch and strange magic firsthand. Magic of which that had been classified by the Magus Conclave as impossible to replicate through human means. Magic that was once described by a certain Grand Magus of a Circle as, ‘...a magic that far surpasses the gluttonous cravings of a mad Archfiend of Darcevaz.’”

And at this time, Malkador had a subtle change in manner as another glow appeared on the map. This time, it was at the western part.

“And to our west, our former ally--“ Malkador spat with clear malice, “--The Aristocracy of Dotoria, one of the Council of the High Lords, has ruminated that Humankind must be united under one banner to guarantee our race’s continued existence. And they have selfishly decided that the banner is to be entrusted to them--thus cautioning Kingdoms, Duchies, City-States, all of Humankind to follow in their stead. As of now, the surrounding human settlements there have already been integrated into their new Dotorian Empire; either willingly, or through force. And at least half of the Council of the High Lords have already joined or been annexed under their rule --the other remaining half, including the Kingdom of Ramorra have just now publicly decreed that we won’t yield to their insults and will execute judgment upon their treachery.”

Once again, silence remains. Was the silence, a result of the shock from the unexpected betrayal? Or was it because they were suppressing their anger from flaring up. Either way, no one could openly lay his thoughts bare until the King had given his word. At least now, they finally understood the purpose of this sudden congregation: They were to decide the course of action the Order and the Kingdom should take in face of the Dotorian Empire’s threat. And the emerging dangers from the other parts of the Continent.

After the time of a single breath had passed, Malkador did a turn and bowed to the King, wordlessly expressing that his report had ended.

Seeing that it was so, the King whom had finally regained some of his original splendour and mien, gestured his thanks with a somewhat still-hoarse voice. “...I thank you for your continued loyalty, Grandmaster Malkador.”

With a dutiful nod, Malkador responded back, “I am more than glad to be of service, my King.” And made his way back to his seat.

The King then directed his gaze back to his Knights. This time, in his eyes was a spark of resolution. “As all of you should understand by now, the Great Continent of Astorrah is facing its greatest tirbulation yet. The Corruption has appeared once more, and seeks to spread its vile touch; corrupting and changing anything it encouners. The Elves, under their new High King have turned away from their path of solitude and peace; consuming all that goes against their will in a blacket of thicket and green. And among our kind is a conflict that cannot be resolved without the destruction of the other. A conflict that should not have happened if not for my incompetence.”

This time, the King stood up. “My Knights, we are in an age that could very well spell the end times of our Order. Right now, in comparison to the foes that we face, we number only but a few. And fighting alongside us are the remnants of an Alliance that is shattered by the whims of traitorous fools.” As he spoke, he graciously walked along the carpeted pathway leading to the towering steel doors.

Now, the Knights themselves stood up from their seats, starting a sonorous choir of scraping steel. A chorus that was oddly in harmony with the King’s heated speech. “Our situation is unremarkably bleak, even more so than the time of the Great War. We might very well fight on multiple fronts as this war rages on. To most, this must be a hopeless situation that has no solution nor a God that would answer our plea.  We would have no respite at all from the oncoming winds of strife. But even then! We are Knights!”

From the Knights came a barrage of affirmative shouts.

Now, in front of him was the sight of the ever growing tower steel doors as he closed in. “Our founding itself was paved with blood. The stones beneath us are made firm by the conviction of our Knights. The blades in our hand are tempered countless of times by the hatred of our foes.  Not one of us shys away from danger nor the prospect of hardship, in fact, we dare embrace it. “ He stopped, right in front of the tower-doors bearing the imprint of the first King of Knights. Above was a glowing plaque of three lines.

Then he turned, with his back towards the first King. “This is the legacy of our predecessors, and damned be I for it to be disgraced under my rule! We may break or perish against a greater force, but our honor as Knights must never be trampled on!”

A groan-like sound could be heard from behind.

“My Knights, to comfort with words is not the way of our Order. I guarantee to all of you, that most of us will die. But remember this: For each one that falls, brings the Order closer to salvation! Fight not in the name of your King whom had failed to protect the peace our fellow Knights had died for. But fight in the name of the Order!”

The runes on the sword of the first King of Knights brightened in fury.

“We are the Knightly Order of Ramorra!” The King shouted.

“And we are his Knights!” Replied in front in a booming chorus of voices and thuds, while the plaque lightened up.

“Perseverance is our strength!”

“And in strength, we shall prevail against our foes!” Another boom, and this time, the first line on the plaque radiated in glory.

“Comprehension is our shield!”

“From wisdom, we grow from our faults!” A stomp of their greaves, with the second line beaming up.

“And control is our key!”

“The key to the cipher, that will temper us into swords!” And lastly, the third line

burned while being drowned by the defeaning sounds of man and steel.

“This is our creed. The creed of Ramorra!” The King wholeheartedly shouted with his arms spread wide.