A child.
No child of flesh.
Surely not.
UnLess Mithias was unfaithful.
But one of Blood.

He stopped. The Elder suddenly struck his umbrella into the earth, cracking whatever earth was laid below. A crevice of his power, a font upon the land. "A child?" This was rather surprising news as Mithias had never mentioned a child in all this time. One would imagine that he would have told Bedivere much earlier given the warring state of the world and that, his child could have been killed upon both sides. "Why Lord Varomere, I had taken you for a Virgin." He teased him, tongue-in-cheekly. "This is the first I have heard of your Child. Pray tell, what is here doing here." Baby drama in a battlefield? The plot thickens.

"Never mind, this is hardly the place, we are poised to strike them now, while their numbers are still not as great. Come the following evening, I am certain they will have garrisoned more forces here to concentrate their defenses. Slipping in now would at least grant us the ability to reduce their numbers effectively diminishing the effect of reinforcements. Numbers after all my Love, Wins the wars. I suspect a higher casualty rate if we were to hold our advance until the morrow." Bedivere took his umbrella once more, removing it from the split earth.

"Now then, what say you Brother? Care to spill some blood with me? I have been a bit out of practice in mass slaughter, but I am more than eager to return and demonstrate that I am not just an old timer sitting on his arse and playing at strings. No, I will wade down in the filth of humans and get my hand dirty. Coming then Mithias?" A hand of invitation, extended out, an ivory palm.