~THE MILITARY CAMP AT BELGRAVIA
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"LIES! THIS MAN LIES, LORD COMMANDER!" roared one of the Milites Captains, a visage of wrath wide on his face.
The gallant soldier stood in front of a shivering man, his chain mail glimmering in the mild darkness of the tent. It was the domicile of Latchlon of House Pierran and at the moment, the Lord Commander and his six MILITES GLORIOSI deliberated the truth to the words of the shivering man. This was the morning after the storm and though the soil was drenched and murked by the rain, the innards of Latchlon's tent was safely quiet and dry, which gave the Commander and his Officers good berth to mull upon their surprise guest.
"This man," continued the Milites. "...who claims to be one of the few Iron Clan soldiers loyal to us is no different from his people. They are barbarians, Lord Commander. How do we know he is not lying to save himself from burning? For all we know, he aids these northern intruders himself."
