King Varron III grumbled as he watched his son battle from high up on the balconies. He was becoming a fighter undoubtedly almost as good as he was, if not better, even with his ages of war. He ought to send him off somewhere... someplace to keep him distracted.

The border wars? No... a cakewalk... He played with the idea of sending his son on naval patrol, but for what purpose? That war was over.

Set him as a captain. That'll keep him busy, with a division of his own men. Of course, advancement would be slow; but kept at a pace where he could introduce the boy into a sort of line so he would be able to go down quietly instead of how his own old man went.

"Terras?"

The head of the palace guard came up behind the king. "What is your will, my lord?"

"Have that son of mine take over a division of the guard when he's done with the challenges. Keep him busy... you know the drill."

The old guard nodded in understanding. "Very well, my lord." He went down to give Liandrich the news.