"Do not challenge me." Garth Hirlif said, still seated, as if he did not care the outcome of this comversation. "You may be a general, but you are under me. Do not forget."
Jhirac Gytel was on his feet, glaring down Garth, one hand clenched around the hilt of his second sword of choice. The first hunt on the kings waist. A 'token of gratitude' for ruling his people.
"I do not forget." Jhirac said, ignoring the rest of the room. He would have to if he wished to keep up this spat. Logically, he could not win.
Garth was the kings right hand, which garnered him support from the queen and two of the governors.
Of the four remaining governors on the council, only one openly supported him, Ferilan Foril, who ruled the district closest to the Shadowed Isle, the ancestral home of Jhirac and his people. A second was, privately, on his side, but, being engaged to the Queen, he could not openly declare his support. And the King's wife, a renowned politician, kept the remaining two solidly against Jhirac. There was only one remaining member of the council, a wood elf, Wilthi Avadark. She, while being relatively unimportant, was with Jhirac, her people being conquered in the same campaign that toppled the Kingdom of Shades.
"I do not forget who it was that ordered the raising of Hollow." Jhirac said. Garth yawned, picking at his fingernails.
"Stop." Ulita Bethor, the queen snapped, bringing a fist down on the table. Jhirac looked at her, blade half drawn. But it was not only he. Ferilan was standing one hand on his favorite hammer, the other clenched in a fist. Even Benjamin Kytal, the queen's bethroed, was gripping the table hard enough to turn his knuckles white. I
"Aye." The kings Corvan Tilir said. " 'tis but a petty dispute. "
"Petty dispute?" Jhirac repeated, enraged. "The burning of a capitol to the ground? The slaughter of my people? That is what you consider a petty dispute?"
"He is your master." The king's wife snapped. " you do not speak to him in such tones. "
Jhirac opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the halls door banging open.
They turned, and Kytal swore. Garth's cavalry captain, a Yytles Dothian, was striding through. United's eyes widened. When was not one of his people, but she had still served with distinction against the king's armies, and the Shadowed Isle was still fighting.
It had been one of his requests that she be given position in the same force she fought against.
"Ah, yes, lieutenant." Garth said, nearly gloating. "Report?"
What she was going to say, or if she would have spoken at all, was interrupted by Jhirac standing, ripping the general's insignia from his chest, and throwing it to King Tilir.
"The Shadowed Isle belongs to its people now." He said Venn lacing his words. "We will fight for our freedom."
And with that's he turned, the travelling cloak he had not taken off whirling behind him. He left without another word.
The reactions were mixed, or course. The king, and Garth, were livid, along with most of the govenors. The king's wife did not show any outward emotion, but was privately seething. The queen, on the other hand, was watching g the door, thoughtfully, while Kytal was nodding respectfully to where his old friend had been.
Ferilan a d Wilthi shared a private grin and grimace. Jhirac would not ask them for support, they knew. He didn't like to ask anyone to pay down their people's lives for him, but they shouldering all the same.
But they had the same thought.
At full strength, neither the Shadowed Isle, the Woodland tribes, nor what had been the Kingdom of Valterra had been able to stand against the King's armies alone.
Would the three of them, weakened as they were, really be enough to hold their ground?

P.S.
I really hate this
So Yeah
Was trying to write something completely different
Ended up with this trash