Slowly, Garalt stood up and gathered his things, and then walked out of the courtyard, following his king and mentor's path.  The castle seemed much more cool than the outside world, and Garalt closed his eyes and enjoyed the sudden wave of cool air that washed over him as he entered.  As he walked through the many corridors of Illana castle, he came upon a huddled group of young squires peering through the crack of a doorway.  Garalt looked at the door and realized that it lead to Ulmerad's war room.
    "What's going on?" Garalt asked them in a whisper.
    "The King has called a meeting of all the top knights," one of them said.
    Garalt walked over to the group and peered through the large crack in the doorway between the large wooden door and the stone frame.  It was as the one squire said, within the room stood the best and the finest of Ikros.

    At the head of table stood his King, Lord Ulmerad.  The expression on his face was one he did not see too often, his brow was furled and his bearded face was not smiling.  Whatever it was they were discussing was very important.  On the table before him were several cloth maps covered in small wooden objects.  Garalt could only guess they were markers showing troop movements.  The whole room was a blaze in light, there must have been double the amount of candles than in any other room in the castle.
    On the other side of the table, across from Ulmerad, stood the dark visage of Lord Daravon.  It was rare to ever see Daravon outside of his armor, and now was no exception.  His black armor was imposing, and made stark contrast with his light grey hair.  He was wearing his full body armor, minus his helm which was lying on the table in front of him.  His bright yellow and red cape hung limp against his back.  Garalt feared Daravon, there hadn't been a single moment that Garalt had seen the man do anything kind for anyone.  His low, age ravaged voice was one that sent a chill down Garalt's spine, and his eyes, his penetrating eyes made Garalt feel three feet shorter.

    Next to the dark lord stood the knight, Sir Haleron, Ulmerad's most trusted knight.  He wore all white, and his well groomed blonde hair reflected the candle's light.  He was in almost every way the opposite of Daravon, though they both enjoyed fighting more than anyone Garalt could name.  Haleron was most likely the second most powerful fighter in Ikros, next to Daravon, though Haleron took every opportunity to prove that he was better than him.  Garalt could remember training, how he would chide Kullvox for teaching Garalt so many different weapons and fighting styles instead of focusing on one.  Haleron certainly was a focused but impatient individual.
    Between Ulmerad and Haleron stood his mentor, Kullvox.  His brown hair was matted and unkempt due to their previous duel.  In fact, Kullvox had neglected even to take off any of the practice armor he had been wearing.  To Garalt, Kullvox was a great man, and it seems that they had been a perfect match.  Their personalities were very similar, as was their learning styles.  Kullvox was pointing to one of the cloth maps and trailing his finger across it.  He was saying something to the King, but Garalt couldn't make it out. Whatever it was, Ulmerad was nodding in agreement to it.

    Across from him stood the dark figure of Sir Liphon, the mage.  He was an enigma in Ikros, a wizard who wielded a sword better than most knights.  Though Garalt had never seen it, he had been told that Liphon's magical abilities were astounding, and the wizard Xanath was even impressed by the man's power.  Liphon was a very imposing person, just as Daravon, and his body was ravaged by old, healed injuries.  There were scars all over his body, and one of his eyes was covered by a patch.  His voice was almost that of a demon, it's gravel low tones was one to fear.  Garalt could only figure that it was due to an old injury to his throat that caused such a horrible noise.
    Then there was Sir Tundrock, the giant knight.  He stood taller than most in Ikros, and his body was huge as well.  As it should, due to his barbarian roots.  Tundrock had once been a warrior for Valk, but at some point he changed sides and fought for Ikros.  No one really knew why, except maybe Ulmerad and Tundrock himself.  His arms were huge, which helped him swing his enormous war hammer.  On the battle field, Garalt had been told, Tundrock was an army all of his own.

    Sir Brockram stood next to the barbarian knight, dressed in full royal garb.  Garalt didn't know much about him, all except that he had been recently appointed to lead the newly formed Storm Crow knights.  He must have been stationed in one of Ikros' defensive castles in the northwest, for those were the ones that Garalt had never visited, and Garalt had never seen the man before a few months prior.
    And in the corner, obviously not amused by the goings on in the room, was Sir Wiegar.  Garalt did not care much for the knight, as he seemed to find much pleasure in tormenting the new recruits with verbal assaults, especially Garalt.  Kullvox had done his best to try to calm Garalt after being riled up by the braggart knight, but Garalt still hated the man with a passion.  What he would give for the chance to battle him, but Garalt had never seen the man fight.  In fact, most of the people that Garalt talked to about Wiegar had never seen him fight, Garalt began to wonder if the man even could.

    "Ahh, Sir Garalt, I was about to have you summoned to me," Ulmerad said nodding his approval of finding the young knight.
    "Sire?" Garalt was confused.
    "When was the last time you went home, Sir Knight?"
    "It's been at least four years Sire."
    "And I would wager you did not see much of your parents at the knighting festival, did you."
    "No your Majesty."
    "Then your first quest as a Knight of the Lion's Crest is to go home and take a nice vacation," Ulmerad smiled.
    "A vacation, your majesty?"
    "Well, if that isn't as glamorous as you'd like it to be, then call it an ambassadorial visit.  Not many from your village so far to the south ever come to Ikros Capitol, let alone join our ranks," Ulmerad winked at Kullvox, the older knight returned a large smile.
    "As you wish, Sire," Garalt said slowly, looking at his mentor.
    "This will be your first trip on your own as a knight, Garalt," Kullvox added, "are you ready to prove yourself a true knight of the realm?"
    "Yes Sir!" Garalt nodded.
    "Excellent," Ulmerad smiled, "I'll have your horse readied, you'll leave in the morning."