[hider=A wise king, an accomplished mage, and a loving father.]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/KXoU9NO.png[/img]
[/hider]

King Reginald took a step forward with his head held high, his chest puffed outward, radiating the dignity and grace of a man commanding the lives of all in his sight and beyond the horizon. Despite being a man in his late 30's, his hair had already lost its color; decades of overuse of magic, time and again for the sake of his people, had resulted in the eradication of his crimson locks. He looked upon his people, his vision scanning across them, looking into the eyes of those he had protected within the walls of Saint Reginald and its surrounding territories. He looked at them in silence, just for a while, as if a parent imparting a great revelation onto their children. After a moment, he would turn his head to the side to look behind him slightly. "Bring it over.", he would state in a voice that held neither concern nor apathy, a ruler possessed by the concept of neutrality. Holding out his hand, a knight would hastily trot over to His Majesty's side and produce a dagger, sheathed in a small scabbard made of a bright silver. After a moment of pause, looking at the object as if looking at an old friend, he would unsheathe it at raise it skyward while looking upon his people.


[hider=The dagger radiates an aura of familiarity to all who glance upon it - a comforting warmth if there ever was one.]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/4MTu8sm.png[/img]
[/hider]

"My citizens, my friends, my knights, hear me now. Saint Reginald has fallen, but we have not! Through the brave efforts of one of our Magic Knights, we have the Azoth Dagger under our control! Using this, one of the great symbols of the unfaltering mortal spirit, we can bring the judgment of the old conceptual gods to these foul beasts! We may not remember the names of those who once created us and gave us our world, but we WILL give to these wretches who destroyed our proud city a proper judgment. We WILL slaughter them the way they so cruelly tore apart your loved ones, and they [b]WILL[/b], in their final moments, remember the fear of gods they had long since forgotten!"

The blade of the object known as the Azoth shone with the setting sun, giving off the heir of something otherworldly despite being a rather simple-looking weapon. In old texts, the Azoth Dagger was said to be one of the greatest feats of craftsmanship in all of Ivor. Anybody who'd studied magic or Ivorian history would know of such a creation, known to be locked away deep in Saint Reginald's royal vault where nobody but royalty or the most magically adept could ever hope to enter. It's known as a weapon that combines all elements into one blade that never dulls or rusts, and always aims true towards evil. 

One by one, the Ivorians gathered around to listen would begin cheering, and the morale of the soldiers whether it be Magic Knight or regular town guard, was also raised. Even the red knight, who was already optimistic, seemed relieved with his expression softening somewhat as he stood up and away from the campfire he had conjured. He would begin moving through the crowd towards the front - towards His Majesty. Seeing this, Reginald would continue speaking after the cheering had died down.

"However, I am old beyond my years. As king I cannot take to the front lines as I once did. My mind has advanced, but as you can all see, my body is not what it once was; the consequences of a magical bloodline, you see. However, my son..."

At this, the red knight would approach forward from the crowd and kneel before Reginald, eyes closed and taking on a more resolute expression now.

"My second-born son, Prince Regis, will take this Azoth and claim victory for our glorious homeland! He will take the Magic Knights, the Saint Reginald city guard, and any adventurers or capable volunteers to reclaim Saint Reginald and prove that the initial attack of those monsters was but a fluke! For us, my citizens, victory is [b]OURS![/b] And tomorrow, we take back Saint Reginald both in anger of those we lost, and to keep alive those we haven't yet lost!"

King Reginald would raise his hands up high after finishing this speech and handing off the dagger to the red knight, now revealed to be the second son of Lowick's current royal family, Prince Regis. He slid the dagger onto the left side of the belt at his hip, and humbly made his exit to allow His Majesty to continue speaking as he will, watching to ensure that nobody was in immediate danger during the loud noises of revelry and relief from the people at the camp. If nobody would interrupt King Reginald or make any hostile attempts at him, he would give one final cheer of boosted morale before retiring once more to his tent for the evening. Closely afterwards, Magic Knights would follow him into the tent, with a few around the perimeter of the tent to guard.

Crowds would begin dispersing to settle into their tents for the night, with city guards going from tent to tent and conscripting able-bodied citizens and adventurers for tomorrow's grand battle. For those without tents, merchants would see the chance to seize a temporary market and offer comfortable shelter... for the right price. Lastly, Prince Regis would lean against a tree near the outskirts of the camp, overlooking the fallen Saint Reginald that had been dwindling from sight with the sun about to finally bid farewell for night to take over. He seemed on edge, and uncertain about something.