Ansom: There is good news, brothers.
If you would listen.
This battle need not be fought.
Prince Tramennis: That's terrible news.
Prince Tramennis: Ossomer, I told you they were marching here for tea.
And we haven't nearly enough quince tarts for this crowd.
Prince Tramennis: He said you were coming to destroy Jetstone.
I said "No! Not Ansom! He just misses decent pastry!"
But you really should have written ahead.
Prince Ossomer: He is here to destroy Jetstone.
Ansom: Ossomer, I am here to save—
Prince Ossomer: Prince Ossomer, sirrah!
Ansom: ...to save Jetstone.
Ansom: All along, you have misunderstood our side's intentions.
We would greatly prefer alliance to conquest.
Prince Ossomer: I couldn't give a used fig for what you prefer.
Prince Tramennis: Ew.
Prince Ossomer: You shall have neither one.
Prince Ossomer: Nor do we misunderstand your intentions.
Quite to the contrary.
Prince Tramennis: Used how?
Prince Ossomer: You believe that the preference of the Arkentools for certain wielders clarifies the intentions of the Titans.
You believe that the Titans' highest favor no longer falls upon Royalty.
That even Royals must now follow the Attuned.
Am I correct?
Ansom: Well, essentially...
Prince Ossomer: Dog bowels.
Prince Tramennis: Ewww-uh!
Prince Ossomer: Whatever transformation you've undergone, you have forgotten the true meaning of Nobility.
Ossomer: Perhaps Royalty is obsolete.
Perhaps the Titans have forsaken honor, as you'd claim.
Perhaps they prefer the cowardice of Stanley, the conniving of Charlie. Or the cruelty of that one you follow.
But I am what I am.
And so here I stand.
I will make you and the Titans prove your claim.
Ansom: I see.
And you, Prince Tramennis?
Prince Tramennis: Oh what he said. Double the dog bowels.