_RoyalCrafter_ 3318 Share Posted December 18, 2023 [!] Belka watching from above. [!] The following is personal character information, that would not be known to anyone. Do not metagame The night before the planned battle of Westmark, the Grand King was sat alone in this royal tent of hide. As he had done before, he was surrounded by his most competent officers, who discussed the battle plan intently. Everything seemed alright on paper, but a wave of dread crawled up the Grand King’s spine, he dismissed everyone from his tent and searched for the strongest rum he brought with him. He looked to the crate with unease, unsure why he had such an impulse to drink, or if it was wise to do so before battle. A decorative armour stand crashed behind him, blown down by the wind or a careless soldier who bumped into his tent. The crash caused him to jump as if he had heard thunder. After calming down he decided to imbibe in the drunk, it was not good to be so jumpy in battle anyway. A sip to calm his nerves would go a long way. And another sip even further, further still, further, a bit more, one more, the last one, further… and everything went black. The Emerald King woke up days later, bloody. covered in gashes and wounds, yet alive. He couldn’t recall anything that happened. He swiftly treated his wounds and returned back to the kingdom, but his injuries coupled with the illness from the Brascan siege had taken a great toll on him. Once he had heard of the Coalition’s defeat, realisation dawned upon him. “She knew… She guided me.” Barely able to walk or breathe he resigned himself to his chamber, issuing a few final commands before resting. “I will return and honour this second chance she gave me. It is not my time now.” 10 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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