"settle yourself Labor..." Alastair wavered his hand while leaning forward to rest one arm on the oak table. They had already begun discussing the outcome of the task before it had even begun. Such vibrant belief that victory was assured, it made him smile under his mask. "As Labor as rightly said however, we can not kill their king. We failed to foresee such a travesty in the Northlands and now our forces are stretched thin to install order over a realm now ready to rip out its own throat."

Alastair raised the paper up for them to see it. A dark parchment with the mark of three kings at its base along with the Order seal. "This document is a treaty among the kingdoms that have sworn a truce. You are to present it to their lord and expect him to follow its wishes accordingly." Alastair turned to Xai'an and handed the parchment to her. "I will leave this in your care my dear..." he was quite aware of what she was beneath the guise. Alastair was one of the few who did not care about physical appearance. He worse the mask both for ritual and security. The Master Warlocks identity was unknown to all but the highest of officials, something that had saved his life on more than one occasion.
"The king must be subdued, not killed. His men are collateral however..."