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The Throne Room.
"STAND TALL! LINE FORMATION! FORWARD, MARCH!" General Methwald Allaen bellowed the command as he sat upon his pristine white war horse, decked out in gilded war-time attire impractical in battle, but practical on this new front. The General needed to make an impression. He was head of security at the Grand Duke's palace, the host for the Mordecai Grand Master's inauguration. Everything had to work seemlessly, and he only brought the best of the best of his men to represent, mordecai under his command at the front, while the remaining soldier elites flanked out in rows.
He took command down the center, the only one on horse back, so he was careful to maneuver the beast within the Grand Duke's throne room. At the center is where he sat, the Grand Duke, like a statue, in all of his glory. He was a man not without his own war stories, as the scars he wore openly across his face showed he survived his own assassination attempt, while continuing to roll with the might of the whole nation.
Even Mehtwald himself bore no scars as glorious as his, but the longer he stayed out on the field,the more he tested that luck. This month, however, he was in charge of a most prestigious event,needing to keep not only the entire Grand Duke's palace and it's guest protected, but his men were surrounding and lining up throughout the entire city of Reajh.
There were guards for guards, and a background list for check lists and only soldiers who'd served in the past five years could even enter the palace, let alone the city, for this ordeal. And General Allaen took this request, this position with pride- as being one of the newer Generals to join the top most ranks in the war he could only assume he had been proving his worth, or why would the Grand Duke assign him to such a place, and for such an event?
"RAISE THE BANNERS!" He shouted, unsheathing and raising his diplomatic blade as he moved to the far end of the red carpet towards the massive door where the lines of guests, mordecai, military commanders (who were not too deeply rooted out in the field) and the highest of nobility General Allaen had ever seen.
He was scared shitless. Commanding men in battle was one thing, but to command his army infront of a group of aristocrats, and the military 'best of the best' (the notorious mordecai) Zannrick Austengarde being one of them- the notorious
hound that protected the Grand Duke- a position in whcih he had been sworn into for life. They were all there, and there he was, greener than the rest, but no less dignified in his position.
"HANDS TO BREAST, LEFT TO ATTENTION! SALUTE!" And the whole of his line up turned, eyes all upon the door where two soldiers were stationed and General Allaen trotted his horse to their side.
"DRUM LINE COMMENCE!"
Stepping forward came the drummers, thrumming away the beat of anticipation.
"MAKE WAY, STAND TALL!" he called, and gestured back, hollering over his shoulder. "OPEN THE DOORS! PRESENT TO US WITH THE MORDECAI OF THE HOUR, FALL INTO SILENCE FOR ALANNA MERCER!"
And the heavy doors were brought open as all stood tall, and Mehtwald, holding his breath, as he waited astutely for the woman of the hour to walk on down- towards where the Grand Duke now stood tall infront of his throne, and taller still, as before him were rows of long stepped landings the woman would need to walk in order to greet him.
And as they waited, the war drums continued to thrum.