If there was one thing that Lord Cole Turner, madman of the western realm, hated more than anything, it was paladins. Controlling and manipulative, he could not stand them upon his lands and trying to exert control over what was rightfully his by birth. There was also the fact that Cole was no mere nobleman, but half-demon, powerful and monstrous and a thorn in the side of the Holy Order that graced his presence at the moment. The great demon Belthazor was who he also was, a threat that not even the greatest summoners of the past could stop.

So when it was time for the paladins to arrive to beg at his feet to be allowed residence in his lands as they did every year, he was bored and annoyed and wanted nothing more for them to leave and not bother him for another year. His head perked up at the young man who spoke instead of the usual paladin. There was a slight tug in his chest, an ache that had been familiar to him for years but now stronger than usual. He recognized the name he gave as the same as the paladin he was more familiar with. Father and son, perhaps? Interesting.

"And this missive would once again be a request to be allowed permission to work upon my lands alongside the summoners, correct?" Cole sat up from the slouch he was currently sitting in to look directly at Chris, blue eyes watching him carefully like a snake would watch a mouse, frightening and predatory. "If you think bringing in a new face would convince me to change my position on the matter, then you are sorely mistaken, but please do continue to try to explain your reasoning as to why I should allow your people to trample upon my land, Sir Wyatt."