Completed The Battle of the Banicks

Kristen Pirian

Pride and Steel
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Lord Theodore Banick, Head of House Banick, passed quietly on his deathbed, and then the struggle for power began.

It should have been a smooth succession. Cecil Banick, long speculated to abdicate his ascension to Head of House, did indeed do so. This left Walter Banick, Theodore's second born son, as the next heir. Though recently disgraced by the loss of his title of Ostia Anir, he nevertheless was a competent man with a history of successful military command. He had his detractors, both inside House Banick and among House Banick's allies, of course, but the succession was his upon the abdication of Cecil and none were explicitly vocal about it. The ceremony was scheduled, and all House Banick were set to attend.

Until, a few days prior, Garron Banick, came forward with a discovery. He proclaimed that it had come to his attention that Theodore had a vault, hidden in the Banick estate in Vel Anir, where he stored all his most precious keepsakes. Indeed, others his age remembered such a vault as well. So the question arose: might he have stored in there a secret will? In his final days, Theodore was so gone from his mind that he could not confidently speak on any such matters; and, in any case, the vault out to be checked, and its keepsakes given out to those who survived him. So Garron, along with other leading Banick men and women, went to this vault (truly, a small safe) together. They opened it.

Inside, among other things, there was a will...which had writ upon it Theodore's wish that Garron be the new head of House Banick. Garron, more than anyone, was shocked (though not as shocked as he might have been, had he not commissioned a master forgery of this will be done and surreptitiously placed). Walter was outraged.

And here the rift began.

Walter had his friends and allies along with his enemies and rivals. Garron, a meticulous schemer, had his own friends, "friends," and supporters. House Banick soon fractured right down the center: half throwing in their lot with Walter, the other half propping up Garron. The supporters of Walter accused Garron of never having held any true leadership role and averting responsibility to pursue pleasure, supporters of Garron smeared Walter for an embarrassing incident during his Canal project and for his recent disgrace in the eyes of the Republic. The arguing and division continued up until the day of the succession ceremony.

In the grand hall where the ceremony was being held, the Banicks of both camps stood on opposing sides of the room, murmuring their discontent for the other and slinging insults. Finally, Walter and Garron and their retinues approached one another. Each declared their right to the succession. And then Walter demanded exactly what Garron hoped he would:

"We will settle this in the ways of old. Gather what scraps of men you can muster, and we will see each other again on the battlefield."

Garron smirked. "Now that, dear Walter, is something we can agree on."

They selected an area outside of the Republic's jurisdiction. They selected a time frame. And the battle was set, its outcome to decide the future of House Banick.

* * * * *

THE ESTATE OF HOUSE KRIXUS


Kristen Pirian had never before seen Alistair's actual home, the Estate of House Krixus. But she hadn't the eye, nor the time, to even take it in; no time to ponder the differences in fortunes of minor Houses and the Great Houses; no time to let the moment properly settle in with her.

She was dressed in her armor, and over it all wore a traveler's cloak. She'd a horse by the Estate's gates and travel gear packed onto it. And, furthermore, she looked exhausted, as if she had spent the whole day riding hard to reach the city and the Estate. Dual full moons overheard cast their ghostly light and the shadows of her hood concealed much of her face.

Kristen lifted a hand. Looked to it. Noticed that it was shaking.

She let out a shivering breath.

Then knocked as hard and urgently as she could on the front door.

Alistair Krixus
 
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It was rare these days, that Alistair found time to be home and relax. He often spent those days teaching his newfound siblings and working on further expeditions or missions. However, this was one of the few times which was why he was surprised and annoyed when he heard the knocking from his office.

He sighed, assuming Mariana had snuck out and caused some sort of trouble. She had a talent for causing trouble that did not come to fruition until she had returned home, which was great for an alibi.

"Y-Yes, can I help..."


He froze in the doorway as he slowly realized who it was. Alistair scrambled to remove the glasses from his nose. A normal person would have blustered in confusion, but Alistair had a few guesses as to why Kristen was there. He could not help but realize she had never been here. They should have done more work on the gutters last week, he had delayed too long.

"It's about the Banicks?"

You would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to have heard much of the drama of this familial war. It had seemed inevitable that someone would come for him...at least it was Kristen.

"Give me a minute to put on my armor and we can leave...." He turned to dip back into the home before turning back around with a smile. "Also, it's good to see you Kris." With that, he left, only taking moments to return dressed in his standard campaigning attire, along with his weapons.

Kristen Pirian
 
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It's about the Banicks?

"So you've heard."

She didn't doubt that Alistair would have picked up on at least some of the goings-on. Sequestered away in the Academy, Kristen only heard of it from an expedient letter sent by Logan Banick. And, as it was, it was only through Logan's help that she could be here now.

Also, it's good to see you Kris.

"And the sight of you likewise fills my heart with joy," she said, sharing a tender smile as she watched him go. In his brief absence, in that attending stillness, the whole of her day spent on horseback, from before the dawn's first light to the descent of the sun, came slowly upon her...then seemed to crash down all at once. The soreness in her legs, the tiredness clawing at her eyes, the thirst and the hunger from meals delayed, descended on her.

When Alistair returned, she asked, "May I come inside? I...I should like to rest. Just for a moment."

Alistair Krixus
 
When Alistair returned, he had retrieved all his supplies and was prepared to leave at a moment's notice, then he got a good look at Kristen.

Of course, she had come all the way here on horseback, and knowing her, with no breaks. She had to be exhausted. With a simple nod of his head, he led her inside and into their dining area. Every new room was a reminder of some imperfection that he had been meaning to fix.

Thankfully, Mrs. Hursh must have awoken when she heard the knock. Realizing that they had a guest, she quickly went to make some tea. Before she could leave the room, Alistair also asked her to warm up the dinner from tonight.

"Sorry about all of this. Rest as long as you like. I'm guessing this was sudden for you too?"


Kristen Pirian
 
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"Yes. Quite sudden," Kristen said, taking her seat at the dining table. Gods, was she glad to be shed of her cloak! And, had this been her own room, she would have at once began unequipping her armor, all the better to simply relax and breathe with the weight shed from her person. At the table however, she removed only her gauntlets and set them down.

"I received a correspondence from Logan Banick, couched inside of an innocuous cover letter, appraising me of the perilous situation within House Banick. He had as well submitted a request for a fallacious mission in the north—likely pulled some strings, called upon favors or promised new ones—and ensured that I, and only I, would be placed on it. Under this cover could I depart from the Academy."

She accepted the tea from Mrs. Hursh with thanks.

"And here I am, having come with all available haste. I...thought of you, first and foremost."

Kristen looked to Alistair as she gripped her tea cup, the liquid inside vibrating slightly from her unsteady grasp. In her weary eyes existed also a tinge of frightful uncertainty clawing about their edges. But these were but shadows and phantoms compared to the warmth in the center of her gaze.

Though she feared for the future, being here with Alistair, hearing him, seeing him, made her feel all the more safe. Made her believe that everything could, and would, be well.

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair was quick to see the tale tell signs of Kristen's worry as he had experienced it many times. His hands reached out and cupped her own attempting to call the shaking of the cup.

"Thank you for that. I will, of course, come with you. I have been following along with the Banick events as best as I could, and I currently have no assignments...We were at the beginning and we should be at the end."

Mrs. Hursh placed a cup of tea next to Alistair before bringing in some food for Kristen.

"I will admit. I was worried we would not be able to get you out of the Academy, but having you here for all of this already puts my mind at ease."

He had heard that the dynastic dispute would be decided in battle, which seemed to favor Walter who was known for his keen tactical mind. If Garron agreed then he already has something in mind.

"I wonder if Walter is aware we are coming?"

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Kristen smiled when Alistair's hands came to envelop her own. That worry, so identified, mixed with sparse nourishment and fatigue had led to the shaking, and with Alistair's aid she was able to take a drink without spilling any of the tea.

I wonder if Walter is aware we are coming?

"He must be, for Logan has of course sided with him. Any aid that we can give to Walter's cause shall be worthwhile. Crucial, even."

She set the teacup down and stared down for a moment, looking at the plate of food—the sliced carrots, the peas, the steak—and seemingly looking through it.

Then she glanced back over to Alistair, speaking aloud the true source of her worry, "If Garron wins the battle...if he becomes Head of House...gains that much power and influence..."

Then exacting justice for her kidnapping, stopping whatever other villainy for which Garron might have designs, would become a near insurmountable task.

Alistair Krixus
 
"Yeah...I know."

Garron gaining full control of House Banick was bad for multiple levels. For starters, it was inevitably mean that House Banick and Pirian would likely be waging some kind of shadow war, seeing as Kristen would never forgive Garron, nor should she. It also gave Garron the resources to do what he did to Kristen but on an even larger scale. The thought was enough to make Alistair sick.

"He won't though because Walter has us...Still, Garron for sure has something dastardly up his sleeves. We have to be prepared to survive it when he finally plays the card."

The next issue becomes what does a loss for Garron look like. Will he be executed? Unlikely, in this new Republic. More than likely he will simply be banished. However, that isn't good for them either as it will just give Garron more time to plot.

"But one step at a time. Eat your fill and rest up. We will ride to meet Logan and Walter when you are recovered."

In the meantime, Alistair should make sure his mother and sister had everything they would need, especially if something were to happen to him.

Kristen Pirian
 
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But one step at a time. Eat your fill and rest up...

"You are right, of course."

And she was famished. One small bite of the steak was enough to set in motion that ravenous hungry born from a neglected stomach. She ate and drank and drank and ate. The servant Mrs. Hursh even brought in a fresh cup of tea and another plate—bless her!

At last Kristen could eat no more and an immense satisfaction descended on her, the bliss of a full stomach erasing temporarily all the woes of the day. Alistair was still elsewhere in the house, attending to his mother and his sister, so Kristen stood from the dining room table and went to the common room and found a comfortable sofa and sat down on it...wishing again that her armor could just have the decency to take itself off and go away for a little while.

She had dozed off for a few minutes when Alistair returned, and she was pulled back from the edge of sleep.

"Alistair..." she said, smiling but with a tinge of regret, voice sounding like she was halfway between the waking world and the world of dreams. "In a few days' time shall come my eighteenth summer...goodness, what poor timing! Another grim locale for what ought to be a joyous occasion."

Her previous birthday had as well been during a battle, fought against fearsome and formidable Blight Orcs in their stronghold of Godendrung across the span of the world.

She laughed lightly. "I fear I may be making a habit of this."

Alistair Krixus
 
Satisfied with preparations, Alistair moved to the common room where Mrs. Hursh had informed him Kristen was resting. Upon entering, he paused as he watched her sleeping so peacefully. Absolutely beautiful. It was one of the true ironies and shames of the world that this beauty, upon waking, would resume her role as one of the premier weapons of the Republic of Vel Anir.

She must have heard him coming because she stirred from her sleep in a half-aware daze. A smile, threatening to evolve into a chuckle, played at his lips from her words.

"You certainly do have an interesting choice of celebrations. After all of this is settled, we must be sure that you actually receive a true celebration for your birthday."

Her eighteenth birthday is considered a milestone in some cultures. Unfortunately, the Dreadlords weren't exactly the birthday-celebrating types. In fact, just how old was he? He would be...twenty soon. It would be in two months if he was correct, maybe he should ask his mother.

"Are you feeling better?"

Kristen Pirian
 
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...we must be sure that you actually receive a true celebration for your birthday.

"That would be grand."

As much as she would have liked to properly celebrate it with family, the graduation for her current class (and indeed, the graduation that Proctor Magomo was aiming to have her take part in) wouldn't be for a number of months yet. Using duplicitous means to sneak off for something as dire as this Banick war was fair enough, but for something as comparatively frivolous as a birthday celebration, no. She would have to wait for her nineteenth birthday to (properly!) bask in the company of all her family again. And what an occasion, doing so while bearing the earned title of Dreadlord.

Are you feeling better?

"Stomach full. Thirst quenched. Comfortable." She offered him a hazy smile. "Reassured."

Kristen lightly patted the spot on the sofa next to her.

"May you sit with me for a while?"


Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair said nothing and just took a seat down next to her, letting his shoulder lean gently into hers. He was met with the cold steel of her armor, but that just made him smirk. That was Kristen, soft on the inside and a warrior on the outside, a dual nature.

"Of course...I hoped you liked the tea. Even if you didn't tell Mrs. Hursh you did. It will make her day." He said with a soft laugh.

A part of him wondered what Kristen was like before the Academy. He had only met her later in her training. What was she like before she had that tough shell to protect her? He had seen her when it had cracks in it, but never when it just wasn't there.

"Nothing to be reassured about. We win this one just like the others."

Kristen Pirian
 
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Even if you didn't tell Mrs. Hursh you did.

"Where are my manners?" Kristen said, closing those half-lidded eyes for a moment and laughing along with Alistair. She had enjoyed the tea, after all, but so gluttonous had she been with the food that it had precluded some basic courtesy. She endeavored to let Mrs. Hursh know when the opportunity next came.

Then came the subject more somber.

"All this makes me think of what may come..."

If they did win this one, just like the others. If they did not.

"Makes me think of just what form tomorrow will take—blissful, or dreadful."

She glanced to him again. Blushing slightly. Smiling demurely.

"But while I am with you...I cannot truly fear."

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair could not stop the laugh that escaped his lips. He should have known that the joke about Mrs. Hursh would have been taken more seriously. The truth was that Mrs. Hursh would not care whether Kristen liked it or not. For all of Mrs. Hursh's formality and manners, she came from a...lower class family. You could kick her and call her names, but if you paid her properly then she would treat you with kindness...Maybe Alistair should keep an eye on Mrs. Hursh.

"What is to come...It will be Dreadful and we will win. That is what the Dreadlords are designed for."

The poet in him would dream of bliss and a beautiful ending that would result in all of his and Kristen's problems evaporating into thin air. But the truth was, they had forfeited bliss when they were taken into the Academy.

His hand lightly reached out to take her own.

"I don't know everything, but I know one thing. When I am with you, I feel invincible. As long as we are together then we will come out victorious. There will continue to be dreadful days, but together we can get through them."

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She grasped his hand, squeezing with gentle affection.

"Alistair," she said dreamily, "you have truly become a shining light in my life..."

She leaned into him—as much as she could, at any rate. Curse her pauldrons, they kept her from leaning her weary head on his shoulder.

"Allow me but a few more minutes rest, and then we can go..."

This drive to press on, however, was checked by her exhaustion, and by the sublime comfort of the sofa, of Alistair's touch and presence. Within those few more minutes she had entreated him for, Kristen was fast asleep, having come to lay across his lap and all possible peace with her.

Alistair Krixus
 
There was a civil war between a Great House that was undeniably going to have large-scale repercussions for the entire Republic. Alistair and Kristen were going to be right in the middle of what would likely be a very bloody battle. It was all on a quick-dissolving timeline. They needed to hurry.

None of that mattered to Alistair at that moment. That lightweight that rested against him completely dismissed the heavier weight of responsibility that rest on his shoulders...They really should have hurried,

Yet, Alistair sat there for as long as Kristen needed. Letting her sleep for as long as she liked. When she woke then they could dive into the bloodbath that awaited them.

"Get some rest." He whispered softly.

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NORTH OF VEL NUMERA, ABERRESAI SAVANNAH
NEAR WALTER BANICK'S ENCAMPMENT


Long days of travel preceded their arrival. The familiar setting of temperate Anirian forests and grasslands gave way slowly the more north they went, and the land changed to that of the wide and expansive Savannah. Hills became gentle, if there were any; mountains became a distant suggestion. The plains stretched to the far horizon, and sparse were the parasol-shaped trees which offered shade.

It became evident, once Vel Numera had faded even from a backward glance cast over their shoulders, that they had left Anirian lands behind. This was a land mostly untamed. And it made for the perfect place for Walter, for Garron, to conduct the business which they could not conduct within the sphere of the Republic; it was the equivalent of two men, primed for a brawl, stepping outside the establishment of a tavern where their quarrel had originated.

Before Kristen and Alistair even had proper sight of Walter's camp (thus far, all of Logan's written directions tracked with their journey), riders could be seen in the distance, cresting a small slope of a hill and then heading directly toward them.

Within short order, this small contingent of thirty cavalrymen came within range. They halted in a wide wing formation before them.

"Halt," said their leader, a landowning bannerman of House Banick, adorned with fine armor. He gave Alistair and Kristen scrutinizing looks. "State your names and your business here."

"Do you serve Lord Walter Banick?" Kristen asked. There was a tension in the air that she could feel; obviously, she and Alistair did not know who the riders were, and the riders did not know who they were. Perhaps the only solace granted to them was the fact that Alistair and Kristen were but two, not likewise a formation of cavalry.

The bannerman did not answer immediately. He seemed to be weighing his options.

"Yes," he said. "We have taken oaths of allegiance in support of Lord Walter's cause. So, does that make us friend, or foe?"

Alistair Krixus
 
"That makes us friends."

Alistair said simply, not showing an ounce of worry at the arrival of the cavalry, but it was clear to Kristen that the closer to the savannah they drew, the more Alistair reserved himself into the cold and calculating persona he used for battle.

"We were called for by Logan Banick. I am Alistair Krixus and this is Kristen Pirina. We will be assisting you in this battle."

While his hand never reached for his sword, it did hang loosely on his side, ready to sling spells in order to defend themselves in case these Banick guards did not work for who they claimed. While Walter may be known as the more competent military leader, Garron had proven himself to be skilled in subterfuge and intrigue.

"Bring us to Lord Walter Banick. He will want to see us."

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Once the bannerman heard the names of Alistair Krixus, Kristen Pirian, his eyes lit up and he wheeled his horse around to face his men. He said to them, "All of you. Raise your hands, swear an oath to keep in secrecy this meeting."

Thereupon he administered said oath, all of his men swearing to it in unison. The bannerman turned his horse back around.

"Lord Alistair, Lady Kristen, we are honored and grateful to receive you. I am Sir Helgan, vassal of House Banick and sworn to my Lord Walter's service in this conflict. We will escort you to his camp. Permit me, my Lord, my Lady, to say to you: don your hoods and conceal your features. We cannot be too cautions, and the less our adversary Lord Garron can know of our true strength, the better."

"You shan't need to tell me twice," Kristen said, pulling her hood up. With a glance to Alistair she said, "I think I must be especially careful in this endeavor. Even if Garron is soundly defeated, if he knows in the aftermath that I was here, actively against him, then I will have...how does that gambling expression go...?"

Alistair Krixus
 
"You don't want to show your hand too early?"

Alistair offered helpfully while putting up his own hood. Keeping their identities secret would be good for the battle itself, but Alistair would prefer if Garron never knew either of them was ever involved.

"Pleasure, Sir Helgan, let's move quickly. Time is of the essence."

The secrecy also told Alistair something else. Walter and Logan were likely aware that they were being watched to a certain degree. If they had any suspicions of who it might be, then Alistair's first goal would be to swiftly remove any spies from the encampment.

"It would also serve Garron to know a gambling term...You have to know when to fold 'em."


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"Yes, I believe that is the expression for which I was grasping."

Sir Helgan and his mounted unit came to form around Alistair and Kristen, and together they began to ride the final distance toward Walter's camp. The afternoon sun above bid them all to cast short shadows upon the ground they tread, and theirs was a company who provided the sole source of motion so far as the eye could see.

...You have to know when to fold 'em.

Though Kristen knew as much about gambling as she did that odd game with the X's and O's during Proctor Ebersol's infamous early morning test, she was able to discern from the context that this meant something akin to You must know when to concede.

"On that we are agreed." Kristen sighed, looking forward. "But will he? Though there is the long history of enmity between my House and House Banick, I am loath to see all these men, fellow Anirians, fighting against one another."

A somber thought dared to take form: that the Revolution, the Republic, was (and still is) nothing but this. Anirians fighting fellow Anirians. The greatest, bloodiest civil war perhaps even the whole of Arethil had ever seen.

She pushed past it.

"I pray that, if nothing else, his own desire to preserve himself, if so threatened by the risks of battle, will induce his surrender."

Alistair Krixus
 
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"Likely not, unfortunately. No matter in what time there will always be men who will fight because they think they deserve the world."

As they neared the encampment, Al's eyes could not help but continuously shoot a glance at Kristen before forcing himself to look away and focus on other things. Now was not the time or place for such frivolities.

The sun bared down on them and the day's tension seemed to rise with the sun. Did that mean it would be over when it set? Unlikely, this would not be a one-day event. Beneath him, he could feel the building sweat on Feldaris, his mount. It had been an urgent ride and he would need to make sure the mount got some much-needed rest tonight.

Alistair could only manage a weak agreement with a non-commital "mhm." when he heard Kristen last wish. No, if the chance presented itself, he would not allow Garron to hurt her again. He would end this man's torment of her. He would end all of this.

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Walter Banick's encampment soon appeared. It was based on the wide, flat top of a hill (such as it was; the land all around the area was uneven, yes, but could not accurately be described as rough for all of its gentle sloping). Trenches had been dug around the camp's perimeter, all of that extra dirt then piled up into earthworks behind which the ground was flattened into quasi-ramparts. What wood was available was used firstly in the construction of a few watchtowers, and these were manned by sentries who had the advantage of seeing much farther than could have otherwise. Secondly, the wood was used for "gates", narrow openings in the earthworks at four sides of the camp reinforced by barricades and by spike traps to check an invasion of infantry and especially cavalry.

"We will take you straightway to Lord Walter's tent," said Sir Helgan. "He will be delighted to see you both."

Just observing the encampment as a whole, seeing the legion of men within (perhaps it came to a thousand strong, perhaps a little more), and knowing what it all meant, Kristen felt a light touch of awe. Dreadful awe, but awe nonetheless. All of this was an apparatus for the succession of one man to power, something that, at least in House Pirian, was a process that had gone smoothly and civilly for many generations. It might have gone that way for House Banick too. There was no definitive proof of it, no might there ever be, but Garron, Kristen believed, was the sole instigator of all this. In his bid for power he would discard scores of lives in these coming days.

Kristen glanced Alistair's way and said confidentially to him, "Despite the tragic death of your father, at least it can be said that House Krixus remained stable in its aftermath. It did not come to something like this."

Alistair Krixus
 
Four easily defendable positions, hastily but well-made ramparts. It was simple, but well done, which is typically the best way to handle things. Overall, the orderly layout was enough on its own to show that Walter, or at least someone close to him, knew what they were doing.

Even Alistair could not stop himself from being impressed. There were roughly a thousand soldiers here, and this was just a familial succession dispute. The Great Houses were truly impressive. If Kristen asked, could she muster these same forces?

"To the world, yes, but I still have family members that would rather see themselves in charge. The difference is I'm the only one truly skilled in warfare and none of us have the money necessary to really pay for soldiers. Maybe my uncle could buy a couple of dozen men, but I would only need to call in a favor or two. Three Dreadlords and they would be dead."

Ultimately, it just shows that while all families have disputes, only the truly powerful could hope to have conflicts on this scale. It also helped that the extended Krixus family lived out on an old estate in the countryside and almost never came to the cities...They were a weird bunch.

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"Goodness," Kristen said, having been under the tacit impression that House Krixus was much like her own House of Pirian—mostly harmonious. Perhaps she ought to ask of his family more when they'd a moment to slow down for such things. It couldn't be all tumultuous; why, she even met Mariana at the assault on Trien! That was something good she could bring up.

She didn't let herself digress too much.

"Do all that you can, Lord Alistair," she said, making special note of his title, "to ensure that such fracturing as we see here does not happen with House Krixus."

Kristen looked fully to him, intent on showing her smile from underneath her hood. The blush may have been harder to spot.

"And know, that in all your endeavors, I would happily support you."

Sir Helgan was close to bringing them fully before Walter Banick's tent.

Alistair Krixus