【In a medieval world of demon slaying, fiend vanquishing, and monster hunting, a recent demon uprising has upset the natural order. Chaos looms as evil spreads across the land, corrupting nature itself. Foretellers warn of an oncoming calamity only...
Following the defeat of the Dark King and his minions, the five Knights sent by the Kristenalian Guard freed the surviving townspeople of Grayhold, then escorted them to the Knight encampment. The infantry arrived at dawn, the present Knights cheered for Krysté and company's safe return. The men soaked up the adoration but the Elven warrior marched forward, never breaking stride. Krysté stopped at the round table, where Captain Ulrich sat, rifling through various reports.
"Captain." Krysté addressed her superior, already at attention.
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"What is it?" He grumbled, then noticed it was Krysté. He perked up, dropping the papers and focusing on the Elven woman. "Oh, you're back! And with all your men accounted for, I see. What'd I tell you, Private? Looks like you've got a future in leadership after all. Hell, give it a couple years and you'll have my job, ha!"
"Thank you, sir, but I'm not interested in advancement, only the mission." Said Krysté.
"So you tell me." He smiled. "These must be the citizens of Grayhold?"
"That's right, sir. They'll be needing—"
"Relocation, right?" The Captain sighed. "The Royal City's going to have a refugee crisis at this rate. Elnard, give 'em the tour. We'll sort them out."
Sir Elnard salutes. "Sir." He took his leave, guiding the people of Grayhold around the camp as instructed.
"Now then." The Captain proceeded. "You boys did some fine work out there. You're dismissed, gentlemen. Private Krysté, have a seat."
Krysté pulled up a seat as commanded, then waited for the others to disperse before turning back to the Captain. "Is there a problem, sir?"
"Not exactly." Captain Ulrich answered. "I'm afraid you're being re-assigned."
"What?" Krysté asked. "But I'm needed here, sir."
"I know, Private, but I'm afraid I've got no say in it." Said Captain Ulrich. "Some noble up in the Royal City seems to think you're more valuable elsewhere."
Krysté shot out of her chair, slamming both hands down on the table. "That's preposterous! The demons are out here! I didn't sign up to babysit some noble brats!"
"No, you signed up to follow orders, Private." The Captain stood, dwarfing the steamed Elf. "That's exactly what you've been given. An order."
"Sir?" Krysté backed down.
The Captain paced around, hands on his hips. "I know. It's not fair. You're a capable Knight and that's exactly what we need." He faced the Elven warrior. "You leave on the morrow. I'm afraid this will be your last night at this post."
Krysté dropped down into her seat, staring at the wooden table. "...Understood, sir."
