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[Vanidor]

He had yet to leave Myrken, as it was a convenient location within which to contemplate his next move. Situated upon the desk before him were plans denoting the order of march for his forces. Two armies to maintain, the one in Derry and the one in Amasynia. He would have to decide which of the two Marshals he would raise to command the entire force there. Connors had the experience, fighting through the Schism and the events since. Jacobs, however, had come up the ranks since the last conflict with New Dauntless. His men favoured him because of it, and because he had been able to snatch a victory of sorts over the Tetrarch's men.

It was a thing that had occupied the whole of the night. And the better part of the day that had passed. Indeed, he was still deciding when the flap to his tent opened and Coran stepped in. The young man had an odd look to himself, and any other time he would have questioned it. There was a small strain in their relationship at the moment, but that was not what this was about. Here then, he produced a piece of paper and set it upon the pile before Burel. There were no words spoken. There was no need of them, for the two men, despite the issues, well knew the minds of one another. He knew from the way it was placed upon his desk, that whatever this was it was important. And, at his last look, the answer. "From Ariane."

The Duke picked up the piece of paper and leaned back into his seat, one last glance swept upwards at Coran D`zir. Then, fingers unfolded the parchment and eyes would sweep over it once. Pause. Eyes swept over the words again. Pause. Again. Pause. Again. Then his eyes would dart up towards Coran. They focused upon him, focused upon him hard. Into the pouch at his side his hand darted, pulling from it a ring of gold. He held it between two fingers, tracing the wavy lines etched into the gold. Fingered the settings that held the great ruby that rested upon it. A breath came next, finally. It seemed to be a hard one, labored. As if there was a great weight settled into his breast.

"Captain Tobias." A blade slender man in the crimson and gold of the Companions stepped forward. "Gather a full squad. Take them to the Welhousen Sanatorium. See what is going on. GO! NOW!" The man saluted, then stepped from the room with some swiftness. The Duke stood up from his seat. "Captain Elberg, take a letter to Marshal Connors, inform her she will have command over the forces in Amasynia. Marshal Jacobs should be joining her within a few days. She is to break Collingford, and use the Squad there as she needs to. The army from Ricathair needs to march out to try and stop them, then we can deal with that. Go."

Finally. He took a deep breath and held the ring tightly in his fist. It was enough to cause an impression into his flesh. Coran waited, eying Burel a bit warily. He had been prone to explosion lately, since... learning of Lenore's death. "I am going to Myrkentown, now. I... If she is there, then I need to be there. At the Shepard's Crook, it's the closest safe place... Please." Not long after, they would be taking off from the place in the woods, and would be heading for Myrkentown.