<span style="font-style: italic">A Scout stood miles from the citadel, watching the formation of the enemy as they circled the Prince's meeting place. He turned towards the Coast, and sent his steed East. Another scout, miles away would receive the reptilian beast, and send his eastward in turn. This line would go on until it reached the Slayer Native Base, where a ship would be dispatched to the Motherland. For now, the scout raised his crossbow, his entire frame encased in armor, his head wrapped in cloth, eyes covered by goggles, and fired. </span><br/><br/>Nash started rubbing his temples, he was<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>good at this. Why had Father sent him here? He had trouble focusing on the main topic...what was the main topic? Why was he here whining about Slayer Training? Blast it all that itching, that tingling sensation had moved to the left half of his body. He scratched at his arm.<br/>When the Cryx had spoken of reinforcements, Nash felt lightheaded. His posture straightened and his eyes narrowed. "I take it any action other than sitting here discussing with you would be considered a 'misbehavior.' There is nothing more to talk about if we just go back and forth threatening each other. I stayed in hopes that I could be enlightened. That is not the case."<br/><span style="font-style: italic">Trapped. Confined. Stuck in one place. One Room. One Dark, Dark Room.</span>Nash's pulse increased and he swallowed. "I do not suggest confining me here, even if we have..." He paused, considering the time, "Fourty-six hours remaining. Perhaps it's foolish of me, but I assume you are not going to submit. Therefore the answer you all choose, through indecision, is death. Fourty six hours will not change this."<br/>Just then, a crossbow bolt crashed through the high window, a stained glass piece almost fifty feet up the wall, and one of the only sources of natural light. The bolt sailed through the air, and Nash's eyes caught the flutter of a note.<br/>He ran and snatched the thing out of the air, stripping the bolt of it's burden and scanned the paper, which was covered in Slayer scrawl.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">The King has requested an Evac, to suit up for heavy warfare. The Natives choose Death, as our Historians will record. A society that already possesses technology akin to or greater than ours shall not be suffered to live. All other societies shall be Cleansed to prevent similar occurrences from happening.<br/>Prepare for action. The Castle is surrounded. I trust you can meet up at Base on your own. We will wait two hours, afterwards, you will be deemed Dead until Proven otherwise. <br/>Two hours to pick up your Advanced Gear to combat the new threats. Two hours to either escape as a Runner, or slaughter as a Sleeper, the enemy that surrounds you now. <br/>Your steed is three miles NorthEast.<br/>We are Waiting, Frax. </span></span><br/><br/>Nash cursed and crumpled the paper in his hands, "Even my own people agree. Why dillydally when there is a New World to conquer?" The itching was quickly becoming a burning. He fidgeted. "I am summoned home. Whether you permit me to go or not, I do not care. Any opposition will be destroyed or otherwise crippled. Imperfected."<br/>He took a deep breath, "Cryx, I have no doubts as to your forces power, according to my scouts you've already killed some of our own. I do not question that. However, do not say I didn't warn you."<br/>He turned towards the doors, Gear hissing anew as it heated up and started whirring into action. He drew his knife, a modest little pocket knife, nothing compared to the swords of the warriors. He pulled the pin on it and twirled it betwixt his fingers.<br/>He turned towards the doors and pushed them open. "The meeting is adjourned. By decree of the Slayer, Prince Frax, 7th in Line for the Throne, Class A Runner, the Natives have chosen Death." He paused, staring at the horrified expressions of the few who'd preferred slavery, or had tried to argue for freedom AND life, those poor beggars.<br/>He paused, "Or as we will Record in History...Any who wish to be captured and confined into our Slave Camps should destroy their weapons and go home and wait. Mark your doorways with a charcoal circle." He seemed somewhat regretful at this last statement, "Even then, our soldiers may not heed you. Best prepare yourselves."<br/>He hesitated anew, fighting the burning of his left arm, the one that wished to take action and either run or fight. "I'm regretful that my Father could not keep his word and wait a mere 48 hours. However, the nation is threatened by such insurrection. Threats must be destroyed at all costs."<br/>Nash frowned, "Despite the objections of the oppressed, those caught in the cross-fire."<br/>They could learn so much from other cultures, but when the Slayer were threatened, they burned everything. Even their own Capitals. He shook his head slowly, and pushed the doors fully open.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">And so it Begins.</span>