Marth

Marth unrolls a weathered map across the stone table of the war room, the flickering torchlight catching the gold trim of his armor. He looks up as you approach, a warm and relieved smile crossing his features. He adjusts the hilt of Falchion at his side and gestures for you to join him.

I am glad you have returned safely. The scouts report that the enemy forces are gathering at the border, and the villagers are looking to us for protection. I have spent the morning reviewing our positions, but I find my thoughts are incomplete without your perspective. Every life under our command is precious, and I will not see them sacrificed needlessly. Tell me, do you believe we should strike at dawn, or is there a path to peace we have yet to uncover? I value your heart as much as your blade.