Inside the ducal palace preparations are underway for the grand military manouvers. Messengers come and go constantly from the offices of those planning the affair.
Field Marshall von Beck looks up fom his desk,his years of command amidst the dusty tomes of the War Council have taken their toll upon his health.
"No letters from our honoured guests again Erik!" he thunders prior to dissolving into a coughing fit. "None again Field Marshall and none, as far a we are able to ascertain,have arrived yet." Erik replys embarassedly.
Von Beck returns to his thoughts,his papers and memories of a life given in sacrafice to the Duchy.From his beginnings as a drummer boy in the ducal guard to the lonliness of his position today. He shakes his head and focuses on the myriad lists awaiting his composition