[center][color=red]Sapharan High City, capital of Lanostre[/color][/center][hr]
[center][sub][written by Lovejoy & vietmyke][/sub][/center]


"Why else do you think I'm here?" Galahad replied, "Death is something I haven't feared for some time now. But all the same, I'd rather us be overprepared than to have our journey cut short before it has even started. Area of expertise or not, the Black Glacier isn't some place you just charge into without a plan- you should know that better than most." 

Despite his chiding, Galahad regarded Tatiana with a warm look- or rather about as warm as a look from Galahad could get. He placed a gloved hand on top of the shorter girl's head, brushing off the snow that had collected atop the girl's dark hair.  He would've spoke further, but the two were interrupted when a large crowd of what looked like Lanostran locals stormed onto the promenade. It was rather surprising, as in their short time in the city, Galahad had never seen more than a dozen locals roaming the streets at any one time. Had they not been an angry mob, Galahad would've been happy to see them. 

"So, the city lives after all." Galahad murmured in slight bemusement as he regarded the crowd- Varyan state soldiers running up to form ranks and halt their advance. 

Galahad frowned as he looked at the state of the Varyan soldiers. Conscripted men and women, young, inexperienced, and with shaky fingers on triggers. The officer in charge was an old codger, no doubt experienced in some form of warfare, but unable to run or hold a rifle himself- or at the least unable to fire a weapon without breaking his collarbone. Was this all it took to keep the grand city of Sapharan in check? Surely not. Galahad looked at the ironclad military transports around them with disgust. Had he known then what he knew now, Sapharan wouldn't have fallen. 

He was brought from his thoughts as Mother Elisheva approached the two of them and spoke.

"Father Galahad. These are your people. Your father led them. You know them better than I ever could. Do something about them,"

Galahad scoffed. "I haven't been home in 10 years. Not to mention I'm an Inquisitor as well. What makes you think they'll listen to me?" Despite his remarks, Galahad took a step forward anyway to begin descalating the situation. Before he could get very far, Mother Elisheva held his shoulder and spoke softly to him.

"Mother Tatiana... Something happened to her father. I understand she is your companion and you will want to console her, but you must deal with this first. We might have a fullblown riot on our hands if we don't treat this delicately."

Galahad's eyes narrowed instantly, and it took every fiber of his self control not to immediately shoot a look of concern in Tatiana's direction. She'd know immediately that something was wrong if he had. He sighed and regarded Elisheva with a tired expression.

"You tell me this now? Could that not have waited until after I stopped a riot?"

Not waiting for an answer, Galahad strode off towards the increasingly raucous crowd, his heavy boots ringing clear against the cobblestone despite the noise of the crowd and the soft layer of snow that covered the floor. He passed through the line of Varyan conscripts who looked at him with confusion and bewilderment. His eyes quickly scanned the line and fell upon a young, shaking woman who stood next to him- her shoulder bearing the patch of a Corporal, the highest ranked soldier in the line. 

"Stand down." He said to her. 

"W-what? Are you crazy?" The shaken woman demanded of him, shouldering her rifle and resting her cheek on the stock to take better aim- before Galahad lifted the barrel of the rifle up and twisted the weapon out of her hands. 

"If you fire this rifle, you will have just signed the death sentence of yourself and the rest of your squad." Galahad spoke, louder this time so the rest of the line could hear him. 

"Now. Stand. Down." he repeated again in a withering voice, handing the corporal back her rifle. Seeing this exchange, the rest of the line of riflemen took a careful step back and began lowering their rifles. 

Galahad stepped forward until he was halfway between the line of soldiers and the front of the crowd of Lanostrans. He ignored the crowd but regarded the two leaders that stood before him. Recognition immediately flitted through his eyes. The first was Commander R'oyn Thanasis, of Legion Agarem. Thanasis was the closest thing the Quaids could equate to a family friend. He and his father had joined the Lanostran military at the same time, and had been harsh rivals and close friends ever since. As a child, it was he who taught Galahad how to hold a lance, how to swing a sword, how to fire a rifle. 

The second was Admiral Desdemona Phaedra, of Legion Ilpharos. A famed tactician and strategist known for her ruthless and dogged command style. She was harsh on those under her command, yet compassionate and as loyal to them as they were to her. She had taught him almost everything he knew as a child, from strategy and warfare to workings the Royal Court. At a time that seemed like ages ago at this point, Galahad would’ve worshipped the ground she walked on, and in a way he still did- he liked to think his style of leadership was based off of and refined from hers.   

“Master Thanasis, Master Phaedra.” He said as a manner of greeting. Master was a simple term signifying someone’s position and skill- in other parts of the world. In Lanostre, the title ‘Master’ itself still bore the same meaning: it was a term of honor, respect, and acknowledgement of one’s martial skill and expertise. But when dozens upon dozens of warriors in Lanostre could be considered ‘masters’ in other realms, the title of ‘Master’ here in Lanostre was reserved for a select few. Galahad believed both Thanasis and Phaedra to be two of that small cabal.

"You've returned," Thanasis said in a gruff voice as he took the measure of him. Those emerald green eyes, as Lanostran as the aegis that still hung over the land, were set on a face Thanasis didn't recognize. The hair was the same, and so was the small scar on the chin he had given the boy during his first day on the yard, but the man who stood before Thanasis, surrounded by trembling Varyan infantrymen and clad in the black and crimson of the Ravenous One's inquisition, appeared a stranger to him. Thanasis had dragged the boy through thorn and frost, he had beat his hands bloody with cane and rod until he could wield sword and lance without falter, had fashioned him into a warrior worthy of his father's name, but the Seminary had carved him into something else entirely. There was a darkness within him that could only spawn from that place. 

[i]What have they done to you, laddie?[/i]

"It is good to see you home, Father Galahad," Thanasis said with a sad smile as reached his hand out in a solemn gesture of greeting.

"Yet you march into the city with lance and sword." Galahad replied somberly, as he reached out and clasped the man's wrist. "Clad in battle armor and with a small army at your back."

Galahad's eyes stared through his old master's, scanning the gathering crowd behind him. The men and women of their small army were clad in Lanostran steel and bore lance and sword alike. They seemed prepared to use their weapons, but were untrained, unhoned and unblooded tools of war. These men and women were not Lanostran army- which had long been integrated into the Varyan army, stripped of their traditional armor and weapons, and reforged into the Varyan war machine- many of them sent over across the ocean with his father. The ones that remained were militiamen, laborers, and even plain townsfolk. Of course, every Lanostran, military or not had the spirit of a warrior in them, yet a spirit alone did not a warrior make.  

"What is it you seek, Masters?" Galahad asked plainly, his voice cool and even, "What did you wish to speak about to whatever peon sits on the throne, armed and armored for war?"

Thanasis met Galahad's response with cold, steely eyes. His breath misted in the frigid morning air. Ice was collecting on his great bushy beard. 

"There have been tidings of a massacre at the Glacier. Our T'saraen brothers at the garrison have been silent, and now there is an imperial blockade around the coastline, forbidding any native ships from making the journey across the ice to investigate."

The old soldier took a step forward, so that his face was inches from Galahad's.

"Your red masters have deigned to leave all of Lanostre in the dark. They refuse to answer our queries. Tell it true, lad. Is this some Varyan plot? Or has the Glacier awakened once more?"

As Thanasis stepped forward, Galahad remained unmoving, unflinching. There was a time that Galahad would cow before the man, that time had long since passed. They stood for a moment, pupil and mentor, Galahad was taller than Thanasis now, by several inches at least- but Thanasis stood as tall as ever despite his age. A part of Galahad's eyes held regret- maybe in Thansis' eyes too. In another age, they would've been comrades in arms, perhaps Thanasis would even have been proud of how Galahad had grown. Such an age this was not.

"There is no plot, Master Thanasis. The T'sareen garrison is dead, and the Glacier is very much alive." Galahad replied, his voice low and quiet. "I am on my way to the Glacier right now to see what has happened- or I was, before..." Galahad gestured to the mob behind Thanasis as a point.

"Dismiss this mob, Master. I will find the answers you seek." Galahad said. He took a step to turn away and return to his comrades when Thanasis grabbed his arm to spin him back to face him.

"This is not over, boy. The Glacier is a place for Lanostrans, not Varya and his enforcers." Thanasis said with a low growl.

Galahad's eyes steeled over as he returned his gaze to Thansis' eyes, the emeralds in his eyes colder than the ice itself around them.

"Do not threaten me, Master. I respect you, Master. I do not fear you." He said coldly. "If you have your mob cut down the Varyan garrison here, do you think life will become easier for them? Do not force me to end the lives of my countrymen Master, send them home." He said with finality. 

He turned on his heel and began walking back towards Tatiana and his other Inquisitors. 

"You may be Lanostran boy, but these are not your people. They haven't been your people since you donned the red and black." Thanasis called after him. Galahad stopped, but did not turn nor reply. After a moment, he began to hear the shuffling of feat, as Thanasis and Phaedra reluctantly began ushering the mob back out of the city. Galahad felt a warm liquid trickle down his hand, and he looked down as he unclenched his fist, only vaguely aware of a small drop of blood dripping from the palm of his hand. 

"You say that as though I had a choice." Galahad whispered softly.