[h3]Lord Jerran Gades Stolt[/h3][hr]

The warrior from the Southern Reaches had weathered the events of the past few days with an air of quiet grace. In truth, the grandiose nature of the proceedings at the council meeting, and the magnitude of the coronation had left the man in awe of the customs of the High Court. He was not used to such lavish designs, much preferring the darkened chambers of Thunderhall in the south. Jerran Stolt had cast his vote eventually in favor of the young Lord Gyre, the son of a man he had much admired and called friend. 

"[color=salmon][i]My King[/i][/color]," said Stolt after some length. " [i][color=salmon]I knew your father. He was a great and brave man and I would serve you, as your father served our beloved King Timault. I would seek the candidacy of Marshal, as you proposed at the Council meeting. I would gladly meet your demands for servitude, as all that I have was given to me by his majesty King Timault before you. The Southern Reaches, all 21,000 men-at-arms, 2,000 cavalry and 8,000 knights under my command, are yours sire. I have the knowledge and skill required to command the Black Army, and the experience of decades on the frontier in the Southern Reach[/color][/i]."

Lord Stolt paused and then stood tall as he proclaimed, "[color=salmon][i]Further, I pledge an oath here on this day, in the Spring of the year of our lord, one-thousand-ninety-one, that I shall deliver to you, personally, the head of that most foul stain upon the land, the leader of the Blackmouth Tribe, Gorguth, whose son I have already slain in vengeance. I would do this thing for you my Lord and King, and for the honor of the memory of King Timault[/i][/color]." Lord Jerran Gades Stolt bowed deeply and resumed his place in the hall of the king.