
| |||||||||||||||||||
That was a problem for another time. He had a dispatch to deliver, and it was marked with the signet of Karl Franz, himself. Why would a General in the Reiksguard be living all the way out here? The courier was overcome with curiosity.
As he made to knock at the door to the manor house, an old man came to the door. It was immediately clear that this man was no farmer. He had the world-weary eyes of a man who had seen many men die and who was content to never see battle again.
"Are you General Ludwig Klunst, sir?"
The old man blinked, and the weary eyes briefly grew dark and angry before resettling. "Son, no one has called me that for years. What is this about?"
"There's a war on, sir," said the courier while brandishing the scroll case.
"There's always a war, somewhere. It is the way of the world." Klunst took the case and opened it. He read the letter and then said, "I'll get my things, bide a moment."