You are all gathered by nationality in front of the large pavillion where the Lords of the Coalition are still in there
final meeting before the annoucement. Those who are either refugees from destroyed or occupied nations are gathered off
to one side.
The warm mid-day sun is glearing down, tempered only by a slight breeze off the mountains before you.
The noise of all those gathered is almost deafening as warriors, wizards and champions from all through the realms grow
restless of waiting.
Finally after an hour of standing around there comes a blaze of trumpets, a roll of drums and cries of men and women as
the leaders of the armies of the Realms exit the large tent, walking up onto the platform so as to be seen by all.
"Greetings to all" calls out the young Elvish High King, his voice magically amplified to carry to each and everyone of
you. "We wish to thank you for being patient with us, this has been a very trying decision for us to make. For it is to
a select few of you that we rest the hopes of all our peoples upon. It is a decision we have not taken lightly."
Stepping up beside him the Queen of Evenreach, the largest of the Human kings still fighting against the hordes of
the Devil Wizard and his followers, her white hair messed by the wind, says in a voice still as soft and smooth as it
was in her youth, "To those of you who we have chosen go the hopes and dreams of us all. It is with regret that we can not choose you all for this duty, but doing so would weaken our armies to an extent that we would not be able to hold the Hand's forces back. I now call upon Lian'Tahlruamy to annouce the selected."
The Elven King holds out his arm for the old Queen as they desend from the platform. As they reach the bottom another elf takes their place before you, this one older and all in black, he looks out over the gathering and in a clear, strong, gruff voice he says, "The selected are as follows. Draynor, Verossa Carmine of Otorin, Halabur Balaban the Gnome, Raif Clearsight, Dame Eleanora Worthe of Stonehold vassle to Lord Fernard of Autumnstar and finally, Daranand Zophokeil. To those who were not selected, count yourselves the fortunate. The chosen six meet at the pavalion, the rest of you, go back to your units. Dismissed."
With that he leaves the platform.
Now the announcement has been made people all start to discuss it, some agreeing with all the selections even though they have no idea who these people are, others calling out that they should have been chosen instead.
Belkenstair, High Steward of Saltmist storming after the Elven general, claiming some mistake had been made before his voice is drowned out.
Slowly soldiers, sorcerers and other candidates start to return to their own camps. Soon all that is left before the platform are the six who carry the weight of the Realms upon their shoulders.