[i]-The Night Of Flints Demise-[/i]

Gading Whiteshorn slept, it was all he could really do in the present days, his sickness had gotten worse and the smell from his room was poignant to the point of gagging. A short humanoid figure slinked into the room, the flowing robes dancing across the floor as they soon reached the boy. A delicate hand emerged from the cloak and a small vile rested in the pinched fingers of the figure. The liquid inside the vile was soon poured into the young Princes mouth and then, as quickly as they arrived, the figure slinked away. The Prince lay as peaceful as ever once again.

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[i]-The Day After-[/i]

The word soon spread. The King and his Prince where dead. Assassinated the night before, both killed with deadly poisons.
Odeshians across the land mourned the death of the Elephant Lord, wondering who would want such a great man deceased? Many questioned if it was the Whiteshorn curse that plagued the family, the royals have died left and right for many turns now. Others wondered if relations had bittered between a house at the meeting for Lord Regent. What the people did know though was that they needed a strong leader in these times. 
A new Monarch must be appointed. But Whom?

It seemed obvious for many, Elle Whiteshorn would take up the crown. She was the oldest of the daughters and some would say the wisest, but others where lost in Odeshian tradition. The land had always been ruled by a King and it would continue to be, they just needed to find a man who could help them. Whilst the talks in taverns and on the streets continued, the possible future Queen was far away from Amplefort, she was travelling with the young Luke Conrad, her sisters husband, to the lands of Stormgully as she had been asked to do by Lord James Conrad. The news of her brother and fathers death had yet to reach her.