It’s that time of year again, the royal court. A meeting which brings together the Dukes/Duchess’ of each region and the Grand Dukes/Duchess’ who rule over the larger territories, as well as the royal family and advisors. It is where they join together and discuss the country and their regions, any laws needing adjustment, trade agreements, larger disputes, heir strifles, etc. And it happens to be the time a certain Duke Draven despises the most, having to leave the comfort of his home, his region, to sit around with all these snobby nobles who look down on him because of the changes he suffered during the war—the demonic blood running through his veins, the blood of those creatures he loathes more than these nobles.

His steps are just about silent as he walks through the palace halls, towards the large room where all the noise is coming from. A commotion already ensuing in the court room, as to be expected really. Each and every one of these nobles are dying to steal each others land and gain more power, steal whatever merchandise their home provides, steal their money, their power, all of it. The array are filled with those that are greedy and those that are so full of themself pretending not to be just as avaricious.