[h2]Westport[/h2]

Count Philip was a distant relative of Grand Duke Alcander and was alone of Affoia's most loyal supporters. A war hero in the most recent war with Ospira, a true hero of the people since he led men into battle personally. His true reward came during the last battle of the Maiden's War when his leg had been skewered by a spear, giving him a permanent limp in his left leg.

 Sent to treat with Lucius, who better to understand a warrior than another warrior. Philip eyed the guards as he rode into Westport, noting the up jumped mercenaries we're rather well equipped. The men of Westport could be a valuable asset if they could be asserted correctly, that is if they stayed loyal.

"Count Phillip of Affoia, envoy of the same nation. I've come to see Duke Lucius. I also bring needed supplies to the city." Handing his missive to the guards that handled his entry into the city.

The wagons rolling into the city bringing a collection of goods that would sell quickly. The guard nodded to his subordinates. "Welcome to Westport Count Philip we were expecting you."

Philip only nodded after he had gotten off his horse, the limp obviously noticeable but it didn't hinder the man's movement. The stairs, however, did slow him down some. His black peppered hair wet from the slight sweat that started to bead down. 

As he entered the great hall he was followed by his own guards, four in number. Each of the men including himself wore a long blade, double-edged in design but what distinguished the men was the bright yellow sun of Affoia embroidered on their tabards. Philip's guards had been overwhelmed to a degree by the Duke's greeting but Philip himself remained stoic.

"It was pleasant enough. I am not a man of formalities Lucius, so there is no need for the grandeur." His predecessor a fat out of a man the grand entrance would have cooed him but not Philip.

"A seat if you don't mind." Gesturing towards a table, his leg of all times decided to throb with pain. He didn't wait for his host as the discomfort started growing rapidly. 

"War hasn't been kind to me as it has to you. Some young Osprian cunt skewered my leg after I had been thrown from my horse." Philip gestured to one of his guards that had been carrying a small satchel.

"His grace Grand Duke Alcander is pleased with the ballista tests and the heavy infantry training is proceeding ahead of pace." He took the satchel from his guard. Procuring a dark brown bottle and two Vissirine made glasses, clear in color. Pouring the liquid, amber in hue into the glasses. One for him and them another for his host.

"I'm here to talk war though.” Speaking only after he had stomached the rum. Its spices burned going down but it was his custom to drink before doing business. “How would you like a new power base and a wife?” Eyeing the man carefully since Philip was straight to the point.


[h2]Affoia[/h2]

Carina walked about the halls as she did any other night, her ebon hair while braided elegantly glided threw the humid air. Her father still remained in solitude, it seemed that he saw no one except his advisors since the latest war. Even with his gout the woman that he would at least get out a bit more but alas she saw little of him. The last time had been her name day and that had been several months ago. Exhaling a sigh as her footsteps barely made a sound at all as she walked daintily towards the great hall.

As she had been in deep thought as her cousin Murick who had been a permanent guest after the failed attempt to reclaim his throne. While she did feel bad for the exiled prince but then again it wasn’t exactly her problem. There was a rumor about a possible betrothal in the air between her and someone. Who exactly she didn’t know but then again the servants did like to gossip so it could be nonsense.

“Murick, don’t be drowning yourself in your own misery. At least you have a roof over your head. It could be worse.” Looking at one of the servants. “Wine.” 

The woman was blunt to her cousin, there could be worse alternative than losing one's own throne. He could’ve died in his failed attempt, at least he was alive to try again another time. Greedily she took the wine when it had been given to her. Sipping once before returning her emerald eyes towards Murick.

“Have you appealed to father again for a second invasion?” She dug at the man curiously to see if he knew what was going on or at least to see if he knew any new rumors flying about the castle. With the weapons testing and soldiers being trained she knew a war was on the horizon but she didn’t know the who, what or the why.