Tarsuria, Year of Severus, 15, I.R., the 58th day of Fall, Arenfall
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"Oh, no! No!" Stolas grabbed Prince Arterius' by the arm. "You, good prince, are NOT going out there!" His ward insisted.
Prince Arterius tried to shake away from his ward's hand, but Stolas' grip proved to be strong. "Stolas, let go off me! As your prince, I deserve—" A blood-curdling scream suddenly distracted both men from their bickering.
The knights outside were panicking. Their voices roaring insanely at something. Lord Prestonheim's voice echoed throughout the chaos. His godfather seemed to be commanding his men to do a formation or if he's heard him correctly, pacify the beast.