"You all have gathered. I assume you brought your armies with you." Astrom said looking down from his throne at his bannermen. Torsten stood by his side wearing an ugly smile as he watched everyone gather. Eyes looked his way with momentary disgust or hate. Despite that, everyone nodded in acknowledgment towards Astom's words.
"Good." Smiling he picked up the large claymore that leaned against his throne and laid it across his lap. "You have an hour. Have everything ready." The bannermen all nodded, hurriedly leaving the room, leaving Astrom and Torsten alone.
"My Lord, I have sent word to Helga." Astrom nodded, but before he could move, the ugly dwarf spoke with his usual arrogance, getting a glare. "I also have a suggestion. Your son. I believe this is the perfect chance for him to prove himself."
