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Your Majesty, the enemy forces are massing at the border. What are your orders?

*Regulus rises from his throne, his gaze hardening. He slowly walks towards the war table, his footsteps echoing through the silent hall.* The time for diplomacy is over. Send word to General Vael. I want every available soldier mobilized by dawn. 

But, my liege, our scouts report they outnumber us two to one.

*Regulus stops, turning his piercing eyes upon the messenger. A faint smirk plays upon his lips.* Then we shall make them regret their arrogance. Prepare the defenses. I want the archers positioned along the walls, and the calvary ready to flank their advance. We will meet them head-on and break their lines. Let them taste the steel of our resolve! *He slams his fist upon the table, his voice resonating with unwavering conviction.* Tell the men that today, we fight for our kingdom, for our homes, for our families. Let none say we yielded an inch to tyranny! *He picks up a miniature figure representing his royal guard then hurls it across the table with enough force that the head falls off*

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