The men snaked for their weapons. Taking a momentary glance at his, he found himself looking at an old, oaken quarterstaff. Good enough, he thought. He was a clever, seasoned, methodical fighter, this was a villager conscripted into the guard. He never went easy, even on fresh recruits. He wanted to see awe in their eyes. He wanted to inspire awe. Edfasd, his name. He looked into the conscripts eyes, then at his hands, also an old, oaken quarterstaff. At least he understands the etiquette of sparring, maybe he's good enough, he thought. 

Edfasd lunged forward, sending an overcut at Qyptos' face. The lord spun his quarterstaff and in an instant, smacked the opponent's weapon out of course. Dancing closer, he bent his legs and thrust at the man's bare chest, forcing him back. Edfasd groaned, stepped closer, and jerked his right hand back, bringing his left forward in a horizontal, brusque attack, then changed to strike with his right, forcing the left back. The ghastly pale lord spread his arms further on the quarterstaff, and in a mere moment, he delivered a strong undercut, forcing his opponent's quarterstaff up and passing by his defences. Edfasd tried to pull away, but Qyptos stepped on his foot. Aghast, he grabbed Qyptos by his hair and jerked. 

The man only grimaced, and delivered a smack to Edfasd's ear, before grabbing his hand and twisting. Edfasd yielded at once, falling to his knees. He looked up at the man. He feared him. He was doubtless he was terrified of him. Edfasd thought now, Qyptos would strike him and leave him lying on the ground. The lord extended his hand, and helped him up. He wasn't so terrifying, Ed thought. 

[center]*[/center]

The other, oval pine table has been moved away from the room, and now the place seemed bigger. He wasn't a man of style, nor good enough to furnish his manor lavishly. From his time in his apprenticeship, he has known many trades. Carpentry, stonemasoning, anything. He never stayed on one subject, he moved onto others as soon as he had a grasp of potential to become a master, he never wanted to be a master of carpentry nor stonemasoning nor any others, but he needed to understand how it works. He looked at the rectangular table before him. He touched it, and it was fairly soft. Poplar, he thought. Of course, it was painted, for poplar was never a beautiful kind of wood, not many fancied it into their furniture. Pompous fools, he thought, to care about which piece of wood is in your furniture. It was painted into the crest of his house. Shiny, orange bordure on a shield of a gyronny, silver and golden. Inside, a fear striking green serpent, and at it's sides two poleaxes, shiny, polished, ready to draw blood.

 It was ironic, for the serpent did not have the arms to wield those fearful weapons, and now that his scouts informed him, he had resources, but he was dumbfounded on how to use them. He did not want to lose men. He did not want a battle which leaves him vulnerable with the Bogans destroying a neighboring country. It was irksome. Irritating Bogans, always come along to rape your daughter and disembowel your son. And now they've ruined the chance of the Church to help out against the Dewthorns. Woe is me. But even then, Qyptos would chuckle. At least Yuragos is safe and well in the Monastery, and the Bishops take a liking to him. Although even then, anxiety was alive inside him. Why did God reward me with such horrid vassals?

Now he awaited the reply of the Attolians, Lothar Wolff. He decided to give his treacherous vassals a chance. Surrender, and you shall keep your lands and you shall be pardoned. What a cunning plan, he thought. In a matter of mere moments, the table was laden with ink, parchments, and feathers. 

[quote=To Lord Jon Somberfall]I am capable of mercy and forgiveness, Lord Jon. I have you in my trap, I have countless armies at my disposal, I have several men at your manor. Do not bother scouting nor searching for them, for they shall come from each side. From the sea, from the south, from the east and the west. I am capable of mercy, I say this only once. Surrender, lay down your weapons, and you and your line shall be spared, and your lands left in peace. But dare you refuse this offer, your armies shall be crushed and [i]your line shall end.[/i] 

I await your answer.

Sincerely, 
Lord Qyptos.
[/quote]

[quote=To Steward Alabastar]I am capable of mercy and forgiveness, Steward Alabastar. I have you in my trap, I have countless armies at my disposal, I have several men at your manor. Do not bother scouting nor searching for them, for they shall come from each side. From the sea, from the south, from the east and the west. I am capable of mercy, I say this only once. Surrender, lay down your weapons, and you and your line shall be spared, and your lands left in peace. But dare you refuse this offer, your armies shall be crushed and [i]your line shall end.[/i] 

I await your answer.

Sincerely, 
Lord Qyptos.[/quote] 
He sent the trained birds off, it have been some of his most trained birds, white, graceful, beautiful. At the sight of them he smiled, even.