The Selection

During the dessert course Garrok watched as a new figure, one he hadn't seen at the party whisper something in Ottothal's ear. A large grin crept across his face. In an attempt to hide it he took a sip of his very red wine. He then whispered into the messenger's ear who nodded before leaving the hall. Garrok tried to make out the messenger, but his hood was pulled taught hiding their features.

The servants cleared the tables and the guests turned their attention to the head table, the emissaries. First to speak was Lord Elator Helemeor from Viviar. Erigos recognized him from his time in Avent but they had never spoken beyond a short greeting. He was a fair eleven man with long blonde hair that he had tied up for the occasion.

"The Champion of Viviar will be Adresin Lutoris." His voice carried over the crowd. A few people murmured to each other but the choice was obvious. Everyone knew he had been training since birth for the role. His father, General Lutoris had been a feared warrior and a past Champion, one of the few that survived the ordeal.

Next up was Lady Vayme Syllar from Orlan. Her elegant green gown draped effortlessly around her shapely figure. "The King of Orlan has selected Maximus Desa to be his Champion." She sat back down and the chatter got louder. Not many had heard of this Maximus.

Erigos leaned over to Trixia, "What was that commotion about?"

"I believe everyone had expected Bron Cragxan to be chosen, this Maximus is unknown, a wild card." she replied before turning her attention to the third emissary..

Lord Noldrum Grayborn stood next. The dwarf took a big swig of his ale, a few droplets catching in his beard, before announcing, "The Champion of Voria will be my son, Boldrum Grayborn." He beamed with pride, taking another swig of his beer and rising it into the air as a cheers. A few dignitaries cheered with him.

"Is that aloud?" Erigos asked.

"Yes, anyone can fight. It just so happens his son is one of the best fighters in Voria. He may stand a chance." Trixia gently clapped along with the rest of the room.

Lord Baxo Sandvor stood last, before Ottothal. He was a tall thick man with a dark complexion. "Xecatan's Champion will be Fangmar Icefist." He bowed before taking his seat. This name sent the crowd into a loud commotion.

Trixia sensed Erigos' question. "He is an ice giant. It's controversial since some believe the giants don't fall under the traditional society. However, since they make their home in the lands Xecatan claims, I say it should be allowed." Erigos had never seen an ice giant but he could only imagine as he pictured the yeti.

Ottothal stood with his hands out gesturing for the room to quiet down. It quickly did. He commanded the room, he had control. "While there have been some intriguing Champion selections we must remember why we are all here. Long ago before we had peace between our Kingdoms, there was constant war. The ancient Kings came together to fight off an apocalyptic evil. Instead of returning to war they agreed to have a tournament every five years to see which of them would rule the land. This was the start of the Ascension Trial. Since that time we have honored their decision. It has become our most important and sacred tradition. For the last one hundred years Sa'vour has won the Trial and this year we mean to keep that streak going. So, without further adieu, the Champion of Sa'vour will be…"

"THE EMPEROR IS DEAD!"

Ottothal halted his speech as the entire room turned to find the source of the shocking news. They saw a timid looking young Golden Brand, keeled over panting as if he had just finished running to the Gala, most likely he had.

One of the council members stood, "What did you just say?"

"The Emperor... is dead…assassinated."

A wave of emotions went through the guests. Garrok watched as a few mages began to cast some spells to protect the room. The Golden Brand soldiers around the hall were ready for anything, their swords drawn. Ottothal motioned for the hysteria to calm but no one seemed to be paying attention.

"Everyone calm down!" he commanded, his voice dropping an octave into a serious tone. The dining hall began to settle until Emissary Vayme Syllar stood up, she had just received a magical message.

"The King of Orlan has been assassinated." Her voice carried her pain and sadness. The other emissaries began to think their leaders were in trouble as well. The guests began to panic, two rulers dead in one night.

Trixia and Erigos shared a glance, this was his plan. They remained seated, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Others began to make way to the doors.

Ottothal gave a commanding wave to the Golden Brand, they closed the doors and blocked them. Those that had tried to escape the room were now blocked by the armed guards.

"What is the meaning of this Ottothal?" One of them yelled.

"For your own protection, please return to your seats. We do not know the full extent of what has occurred. We can do nothing now but wait for news. Please sit. This is the safest place for you all at the moment."

The wealthy guests made their way back to their seats, some begrudgingly others in agreement with Ottothal. Either way they all waited for his next words.

Once they were all seated again he spoke, "Thank you." He looked down at the other members of his table. "Any other news from your respective Kingdoms?"

Lord Sandvor shook his head, "Nothing as of yet."

"Lord Grayborn, anything from Voria?"

The dwarven man spoke, "It seems King Meldhammer has been injured by an attack. The message said the wound was grave but not mortal."

"That is good news, thank you Grayborn." Ottothal nodded to Lord Helemeor who was lost in his own world. "Lord Helemeor, what news?"

"...dead." Was all he could muster before he placed his head in his hands, weeping. The King was a dear friend of his.

Ottothal wordlessly thanked him.

"Xecatan did this!" A voice yelled.

"Their King is fine!" said another.

Murmurs and shouts of agreement followed suit. Lord Sandvor stood up.

"How dare you accuse Xecatan of such treachery! We have been loyal to the Emperor, to all the Kingdoms!" He yelled, his face flush with anger.

Ottothal touched his shoulder, "Lord Sandvor please, please sit. I'm sure Xecatan is not at fault in this."

Reluctantly the Lord sat, his face losing the red tinge.

"How can you be sure?" That same voice yelled. Garrok was still unable to find the source.

"I can not but sure, but we should not throw out accusations until we can be certain. As of now, no one in this room is at fault."

"He's good," Erigos leaned over and whispered to Trixia.

"It's why his true nature has gone unnoticed. He's really been controlling the city for years now."

"As it stands. Three rulers have been assassinated with one gravely injured. This is all we know. I stated earlier the tradition of the Ascension Trial must go on, however, under such terrible circumstances Sa'vour will hold off on their selection until those that need to return to their Kingdoms do so. I'm sure there is much to consider and mourning to be had."

High Bearer Cicar stood, "The council should meet and vote on who makes the selection for Sa'vour. We will need a few days to deliberate."

"The Higher Bearer makes a good point. The Emperor is dead, that means the selection falls to a temporary elected placement from the council."

"Vote now!" a voice yelled.

"Ya, vote now! Why wait, who knows what could happen." Another shouted.

"We are all here." said Lady Vayme. "We've all made our selections, it's not like they can change."

Ottothal made eye contact with each council member, landing on Trixia last, "Is that agreeable?"

Trixia watched the others nod.

"Alright then, we will vote now."

"Trixia, I think you should vote for him. If you don't, there may be repercussions." Erigos whispered as the other members began to vote.

"I don't know if I can."

"You must, it could put an even larger target on your back."

She was still contemplating when he came to her.

Before Trixia even said her choice, Ottothal had received enough votes, but nonetheless she still had to say.

"Council member Trixia Qas'otoman, who do you vote for?" His eyes narrowed, waiting for her response, as if none of the other votes had mattered.

"I vote for…" she sighed, "Ottothal Blackthorne."

Erigos could tell she was disappointed as the vote ended unanimously for Ottothal. The room clapped with approval.

"I am honored that you have chosen me to represent the Emperor and make this years selection." His eyes fell on Garrok. "In this troubling time, with the death of our rulers, we must honor our ancestors. I do not take this position and make this choice lightly. With that said, I Ottothal Blackthorne select, to be the Champion of Sa'vour...Garrok Blackrend."