Duke Lafontaine is sitting at his desk, looking over a pile of paperwork. In front of him is a map of Estalia with markings on it. Markings which indicate the location of potential mines, relics and other items. The duke just shakes his head “We’ve got no clue what we’re going run into” the Duke mutters to himself as he realizes that map making is not a Bretonnian strength. This map is certainly no exception to the rule. As a people Bretonnians treasure artistic “flourishes” over accuracy, which is fine trait with artwork but a rotten one for mapmaking.

The Duke points to a large river, painted gold and named “The Most Puissant River, for it flows solid gold and rubies for the pure!”. “Solid gold doesn’t flow… it’s solid. If this thing is remotely accurate, I’ll be impressed.” The Duke mutters to himself.

Knock, knock. The Duke turns his head. One of his servants stands before him. “The host is almost ready, my Duke.”

“Good, we leave in the morning. I’m not going to do a damn bit of good just sitting here, waiting for gold to just shower upon me from the heavens.” The duke pauses, he spies his wooden markers. Three markers, one for each force. The Duke sighs, “Are my guests ready?”

“Grail Knight Morikhi has been yelling at the peasants for looking at him again.”

The Duke rubs his head “How impressive is the honor of our most blessed knights is… Send him in.”

WHAM! The door opens and Grail Knight Morikhi strides into the room as if he owns the place and stands next to the Duke. His magical aura fills the room as his eyes nearly glow with supernatural intensity. Morikhi turns to the servant. “Your betters are speaking. Leave.” The servant has no problems obeying this order and scurries out of the room.

“Usually members of my household wait until they are called, but that’s moot at this point… Are you ready to campaign, or do you prefer screaming at peasants?”

“I do not campaign for money, such concerns are beneath me.”

“Do I need to remind you who’s household you’re a member of? I would hope your highly refined sense of honor would serve to remind you of your basic obligations.”

“I am honor.”

“Is honor coming or not?”

“A great evil is stirring in Estalia. I shall smite that evil as my gift to the Blessed Lady. I shall slay a 1000 demons in one day for her. No orc, dwarf, elf, undead, or man shall stand before glory. For I am glory.”

“I’ll take that as a yes… Would you like to discuss tactics? I’ve noticed you banned all men-at-arms, archers, and pretty much everybody else who’s not a knight from your war party. Care to tell me what you plan to do?”

“I am glory.”

“The days of shattering infantry like glass are behind us. How do plan to adapt?”

“I am glory.”

“You’re an asshole, that’s way more accurate.” Prophetess Liliane, surrounded by a glowing magical light, walks into the room. She walks over the couch and sits down on it. “Have any wine Emeile? I think I’m out, again.”

Grail Knight Morikhi slams his fist against the table, enraged by Liliane’s behavior. She just looks up at the Grail Knight. “Don’t you have some peasants to mistreat, that always makes you feel better.” Morikhi storms out of the room, unable to withstand Liliane’s commentary. Peasants scurry out of the way as an enraged Grail knight screams most un-honorable oaths at the top of his lungs.

“Wine, My Lady?”

“Absolutely, none of that Empire swill either. Those filthy sausage eaters would drink a warm cup of piss from a Beastman and call it glorious.”

The Duke goes into the cabinet and pulls out a bottle, he wipes the dust off it. “I’m afraid that this (shakes bottle) is the last of my dear brother’s collection. From now on, you’re on your own.”

“You really are that broke?” Liliane walks over to the table and looks through the papers. The Duke opens the bottle and fills her glass.

“Let’s just say this kingdom was quite a hollow prize. One that I am honor bound to fill.”

“You don’t have to do this crusade, Emilie.”

“Your concern for my welfare is a new development.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to mock people, knight.” Liliane downs her glass in one fell swoop. She motions to the Duke, who attempts to fill her glass. She snorts and grabs the entire bottle and starts drinking straight from it. The Duke folds up the papers and starts to put them away, preparing for the long trip.

Liliane puts the bottle down, she looks over Emilie. “He’s right you know… About Estallia.”

Emilie stops putting the maps away, he looks at Liliane “This land has been in my family for 400 years, if I don’t do this we will lose everything. This is my duty.”

“Your brothers don’t seems to think the same way.”

“I am not them.” Emilie holds forth his knightly crest. “This is why I fight, I owe my allegiance to my King and to my lands. Thousands of people, noble and peasant rely on me. My oath demands it. ”

“It’s just an ideal! You idiot!” Liliane yells, making Emilie take a step back. Nobody like beast mages when they’re angry… Especially this one… Magical energy cascades through Liliane, she SHATTERS the solid oak table with HER FISTS. Splinters fly everywhere. Liliane looks around… servants are cowering… Emilie is in back of room shaking pieces of wood of his tunic.

Anger flows out of Liliane as she looks around at the wreckage… Emilie steps towards her, moving over broken table parts and a cowering pageboy. “I know it’s dangerous… But we’re still going.”

Liliane sighs… “Well, if you’re going to go… I… um… hired some mercenaries. Some light cavalry… Do you know how hard it is to get decent light horse in this blasted kingdom?”

“What? With what money?”

“I found it, they aren’t going to miss it… I swear. I wouldn’t steal.”

“Oh no…” Emilie buries his head in his hands… “Is there anything else?”

“Well (pause). Yes…” A servant enters the room and hands Liliane a package. She hands the package to Emilie, who takes it warily. Emilie unwraps the package. It’s a solid Gromril Helmet covered in Dwarven runes and rubies, covered in priceless runes and flawless golden etchings which cover the entire helmet!

Emilie takes a step back, he’s flabbergasted. Liliane looks a little embarrassed… “It’s something I found abandoned, it’s not much…”

“This is a Gromril great helm! This is a priceless artifact of the Dwarven people!”

“Really? Oh…. Um… It’s yours, just don’t get yourself killed, ok?”

“I will do my best… Where did you get this?”

“I found it abandoned by the river…. Near a log.”

“You found a priceless Dwarven artifact abandoned by a river, near a log.”

“Yup. I’m a Prophetess.”

Emilie bows before Liliane “The word of Prophetess is pure and knows no falsehood. The Dwarven people have indeed abandoned this artifact. (pause) As a token of your generosity I shall wear this item to battle… may I never need it.”

“You will, Emilie…” Liliane suddenly turns dark “Trust me.”