[center][h3][b][color=black]King Valdemar[/color][/b][/h3][/center]

"I hereby request that Edontas officially involve itself in this perversion of justice and that you send five-and-twenty men through guise of night to the Blackfort to aid in my release. Your nephew, Oren Lugain."

The king finished reading the letter aloud, and and began to laugh a snide grumble of a laugh. His red face and beady eyes were difficult to make out in his chamber's candlelight, but his unmistakably naked frame and wild, wiry hair gave him a silhouette befitting of a troll in a storybook. A servant stood by the foot of his bed -- a young man with a feint patchy beard and brown hair pulled into a thin, wispy ponytail. The only detail notable of the young man was his leather overshirt with the Flitton's direbat embossed into the chest, marking him as a servant to the house of Flitton, which now resembled little more than a bat's shadow in the king's dark, cavernous room.

Both of Valdemar's pudgy hands had golden rings and bracelets that shone in the dark room as he laughed, and moreso as he slapped his knuckles against the letter in his chortling. He sat upright in his bed, which overflowed  and spilled onto the floor with blankets and sheets, with two strikingly Edontian-featured young women at both of his sides, laying peacefully. The air of the room was thick with incense and pipesmoke that wicked through the candlelight as it thinned and disappeared, and clung with hot sweat, making it unpleasantly swampy. Valdemar pulled his pipe from his lips, exuding a plume of smoke into the face of the servant who stood unflinchingly at the foot of his bed.

"My sister's northern whelp is asking for me to send soldiers to save him. I haven't seen that bitch in thirty some years, I didn't even know she [i]had[/i] a son. I may as well send her a birthing gift, too."

The servant smiled and gave a pleasant laugh, though he was experienced enough to not add a remark on what the king had said -- all of Valdemar's servants knew he hated that. The king of Edontas was a clever man, and didn't take kindly to servants trying to be as clever as him.

"Shall I send for five-and-twenty men, my liege?"

Valdemar scoffed, handing the servant the letter as he stood up and off the bed, wincing as his bare feet touched the cold, stone floor. "Send him the Hockor knight. Ser Brian, was it?" He placed his pipe on a small table by the bed and returned quickly, lurching forward and climbing over one of the whores, scrambling as he gradually pulled one of the sheets up to cover his indecency.

"Ser Byren, my liege."

"The one with that ghastly face. You know who which bloody knight. Send for a fresh pipe for your king, and close the door on your way out. I'll hear nothing more of this northern brat."

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