Sir Ronald Jay Stillbottums the Fifth, of Cardona, the Capital City of Esultare, strode through the halls of the Pentagonal Palace, armor gleaming, attended by a dozen of his finest warriors. Passing by sun-soaked columns of pale marble, the great warrior sat on his humble wooden chair in the center of the Grand Chamber. Behind him towered the Exaltant Arcgemspire, twice as tall as a man and fifteen feet across. It glimmered with the shining crimson power of the Archon Esulatare, Patron Archon of the Continent of War.
A beaten and emaciated man in chains was thrown upon the marble at Stillbottums’ feet. “This man claims to be Prinner Wilholm, a from Barrow’s Safety. He was guarding a caravan of Desolates which was attacked by mountain wolves. One of my men retrieved him from the Steep Hills and brought him here as quickly as possible. We believe Oakchild’s murderer, the boy, was among the Desolates who escaped. The most recent report places him in the town of Lakeside.” Devolion, proper as ever, gave his report, back straight, eyes slate gray and unmoved by the prisoner’s injuries.
“Locate and retrieve the boy as swiftly as possible.” The said, tone tinged with disdain when he looked down at the pitiable . “Send Antonius. I want this done right.”
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Devolion nodded and scuttled off, signaling the guards. Two came forward, pointing spears at Prinner, who held up his hands in front of his face and groveled. “Please, Your Eminence. Please! Have mercy on me! I’m just a lowly ! My Class hasn’t even Advanced!”
Stillbottums the Fifth scoffed. “And how old are you, to not have reached such a foundational milestone?”
His answer was a weasley thing. “Twenty-nine.”
Stillbottums laughed a wide and booming laugh. “How sad.” He held a finger to his lip, thinking. “But. I am lacking in , and I have been meaning to see how well a complete newbie would fare trying to learn my new Athletic Mastery Talent I’ve devised.” He winked at Prinner. “I’m inducting you, worm. .”
The smiled a thin, icy smile. “If you survive the first week, I might just make something of you.