Meanwhile, in the beautiful capital city of Romanica, there is a gathering of nobles and councilmen in the grand court.
"Your majesty, King Randolf!" A male with curly brown hair in an extravagant robe covering his well-made tunic and pants, clearly a noble or wealthy man.
"Mm, Duke Alistair, seeing you answered the call is good."
The king's current state didn't look good, with a sickly face and weak voice, but his eyes still shone with vibrance and focus. "How is the council of twelve?" He looked at the twelve nobles and merchants selected as the council that aided the country all seemed a little worried and nervous.
"Your majesty, the vile barbarians of the north have broken our pact!" A slightly chubby male of the council spoke before giving a sincere bow and kneeling to his king without complaint despite his walking stick and struggle to walk.
