The Last Hope of Evras (Still Open!)

It was announced all through the land, the King was looking for champions to complete a quest, a quest to end the war and in the end, the abominations plaguing the world, known as the mages. It struck hope and fear into the hearts of the citizens of Evras. The mortals were overjoyed that it was all going to come to an end. The mages, well they were very afraid. Many stepped forward, but only a small group was accepted. And so, they were brought before their King and the Heir to the throne.
The throne room as vast, glorious. Pure gold was melted into intricate designs on the wall and ceiling. Guards were lined against the walls, perfectly still, stoic. They were armed to the teeth, though the only weapon that was visible was a sword strapped to their sides. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glittering with hundreds of lit candles. Against the wall, centered, was throne seated on a dais. Behind the throne was a beautiful stained glass window going from floor to ceiling. Seated on the throne, sat a man in elegant clothing, one suited for a king. On top of his greying hair sat a crown. His elbow was propped on the armrest, caressing his chin. His son, who looked so much like the king, stood on his right, just two steps below, arms behind his back, a sword strapped to his side. If not for his clothing and the crest on his lapel, he could easily be another guard. Advisors stood to the side, silent. The volunteers that had been accepted were pushed forward. The King sat silently as he watched them bow before him. Longer than it should have taken him, he said finally, "Rise, my subjects."
The King stared down any who dared raise their eyes to meet his. After a long pause, he spoke again. His voice was hoarse but firm. It was a voice that could send fear into his victims with only a few words. "You all have volunteered for this dangerous quest of mine. You will infiltrate enemy territory. You will kill their queen. Without their queen, they will be sent into a rampage. They will have no one to turn too. My son, Elias, will order you what to do next if you make it that far. If you succeed, you will return with eternal glory and riches. But if you fail, run as far as you can go, because if you are caught, I will deliver the killing blow myself.
"See to it that they are all given rooms. Bathe them and give them dinner. Clothe them. Tomorrow, they will be set out on their journey." The King stood and walked down the dais. His advisors followed behind him. The Crowned Prince stepped forward, his hand resting on his sword.
"You are all here for a reason. Revenge, glory, the riches. No matter what it is, do not let it get in the way of this mission. I don't have time to train the lot of you, so I hope for all our sakes you are ready. You will do what I say, when I say. If you try to argue, you will likely find my sword lodged in your throat." Elias stood passively, little emotion crossing his face. "Go, eat and rest well, it likely that will be last time in a very long time. You will be measured for your armor, it is up to you how much or little you wear, whether it be metal or leather. You will also have your choice of weapons. But let me warn you, shall you try to cause harm to the King or anyone else of the royal family, including myself, you will die a most painful way."
With a beckoning gesture, maids approached. They all went to their respective volunteer. "You are all dismissed." Elias left no room for questions. He turned on his heel and left the throne room. The maids lead the volunteers to their rooms, all on the same floor, separated by male and female. They were bathed and fed, then instructed to sleep as much as they could. The maids took their leave, though guards were stationed outside.

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