You emerge from the tent of The Broken Oak to see the army outside. They stand on the mustering ground in front of the palace, all three hundred soldiers, men and women in polished chainmail and iron helms, arranged into squads with spears at their side. A few trembling hands tell you they could benefit from a boost in morale. Up ahead, a small stage has been erected. As you walk up to the dais, all eyes are on you. Alighting the wooden stairs, a sea of faces awaits your words.