70th of Zieliah, Year 698

First Star Gori Lamillur, Voice of Ashtoken, Token of the Second Tribe of Ashishia, Esteemed General of The Great Gnoll War, Prophet of The Hero, Appointed Lord of Ashtoken, and now First Sword and Lord Marshal; These are the names Gori had gathered throughout his adventurous life, and the titles he vividly ponders now in a quiet contentment as he sits silently upright on a silken red pillow, his pale eyes closed delicately in a casual concentration, and the mighty Spear of Ashtoken laid across his copper robed lap. 

The Ashtoken Guard Elites waited quietly at full attention around him while he deeply meditated in his timeless bubble of colorful thought and enlightened intrigue. Their crimson trimmed black robes contrasted the bright Skyhaven room, as soft golden light peaked in through the lightly draped windows and laid their warm familiar hand over the exotic group. 

Gori exhaled as he finished a perplexing thought and opened his blue eyes slowly, his dark pupils shrank to adjust to the sunny light, as if he just physically dove into the deepest crevices of the ever thinking mind and surreal imagination that rules silently over mysterious subconscious. He lifted his powerful left arm towards one of the obedient guards, and twitched his wrist slightly. 

The tasked guard bowed his head in humility and swiftly procured a long elegantly sheathed Ashishian curved blade from an idle velvet bag that rested contently on an oaken countertop. The once pearl white bindings on the hilt revealed numerous cases of active use and advanced age of service. Gori's fingers wrapped themselves around the old familiar hilt and with a nod from The First Star, the elite slowly pulled the sheath back, revealing a long finely crafted blade, sharpened and reforged to perfection over a span of more than twenty years, and the very feared edge that bit deeply into the flesh and souls of countless evil gnolls, and all who ever opposed Ashtoken while Gori could hold a blade in it's defense. 

The infallible blade reflected the suns beam off it's polished sides and almost shone in a divine light because of it. This blade was considered a young relic, and was bestowed a special name, Lam'token, Bane of the Enemy, for all the times it's carved its way through thick opposition as a powerful and expertly used extension of Gori's own arm. 

Once and always held in defense of Ashishia, hero Gori Lamillur now holds this legendary blade, that is now every part of him as he is of it, not only in the paramount and ever vigilant defense of the beloved desert and her children, but for all of blessed Elyden. 

As Gori pondered his thoughts while gripping the sword and finding his usual comfortable spot on the grip, the Spear Of Ashtonen suddenly grew warm in Gori's lap and his reminiscing was cut short to heed it's dire warning. The First Star smoothly bounced to his agile feet, Lam'token in one hand, and the Spear grasped tightly in the other. 

He twitched his nose and in one fluid synchronized motion, all the guards unsheathed their blades with a loud shredding sound of the Ashishian metal being revealed quickly and followed the vigilant Gori out into the glorious shining halls in a short ambitious jog. 

The armed group formed a tight circle, with Gori at it's lead as they made their swift way down the decorated hall, tempered blades ready and in defensive ward. 

Gori could sense it, he could even smell it's taint, a trespasser, a bloody murderer, a unhonorable killer with a familiar repulsing scent. His strong hand tightened around the imposing spear and he held his mighty blade close and ready as the expert group of elite soldiers spilled out into the light filled and calm atrium where all the high lords first met. 

The Royal Guards posted responded quickly and in a sense confusion at the aggressive looking groups sudden approach, but this worry was interrupted by a loud clang as a chain snapped above the two groups. With in split second a thud sounded and the body of a servant, chilled by the clammy hand of death, collapsed from the high decorated ceiling into a limp heap onto the floor in-between them. 

Gori sheathed his blade into his robes belt and held the spear casually in the nook of his arm, "he is already gone," he said dimly, knowing one of the most dangerous men in all of Elyden accompanied the high lords personally for their brief visit to the capital. With this duly noted, Gori figured it was time to head back to Ashishia to contact the council of six, if Shamgar Paragon required no more of him for the moment. 

With a click of his heels, the entire company loyally spun around and marched in synch to The Lord Regents Office, leaving the Royal Guards with the suffocated blue murdered body.