Michael awoke to the smell of smoke. He bolted upright, placing his hand on his armor and sending his will through it making it wrap itself around him as he grabbed Ruin and The Wall. He could hear yelling and he moved out of his segment of the tent to see one wall of canvas completely covered in flames. The others were already getting the diplomats outside and the knights were moving readily out as well. Michael followed them, already sending out a wave of healing energy to deal with any burns. Luckily there were only mild ones to heal.He pushed his way out of the tent and stopped. They were surrounded.Knights in full armor were arrayed in two rows around them and their burning tent. Behind them were bowmen ready to fire, and behind them were mages with prepared spells, the air around them swirling with raw magicka.Michael kept his hand on Ruin’s hilt and his shield ready. The knights all arrayed themselves around the diplomats with Lance at their head. Marcus had his pistols aimed and ready, Ollie’s staff was already raised and barriers raised around them, and Pyotr stood next to lance on the balls of his feet, ready to launch himself forward.Michael saw that King Loen was standing slightly elevated behind the thickest cluster of his knights. His friendly expression was entirely gone and he held his warhammer as if he was ready to use it at any moment.“What is the meaning of this?” asked Lance, beating Michael to the punch.The Swandian King laughed without humor.“The meaning of this? You conspire with our enemies under the guise of neutrality and ask what the meaning of this is?” He spat. “Disgusting.”Lance shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! We ate a meal with them. Same as we did with you!”“One of your people met with their monarch alone for an extended period of time. After that you cast a spell to block sound escaping from your own tent. I myself noticed many subtle (...)