972 AF, Imperial Capital of Phaleynir

“Your majesty, Lord Blacksun sent his report:”

‘The Mayreyans are hastening their takeover of Perala and, with it, the Sunrise Archipelago. If they are to be stopped from becoming a threat to the Crown once again, I must suggest an immediate intervention in their domains on the Upper Perlamun. It has come to my attention that the young margrave, Mikhail Draelnor, has found himself in a power struggle in Winterhaven against the local gentry, including several Mayreyan supporters. If he were to be promised an Imperial Mandate for the entirety of Vaernius and supported ever so slightly, he might prove a useful tool in curbing the ambitions of certain northern nobles.

Yours faithfully,

Taeynder Blacksun

With a tired motion, Alexius moved his right hand to his temple and let go of a heavy sigh. To the right of his desk, the setting sun gave its last over the throbbing heart of the Empire; meek and mighty alike going about their purpose in the Imperial Capital.

“Thank you, Baelos. Write a reply to Blacksun: I grant you full authority to act on my behalf for the good of the Empire. Take any measures you deem necessary as my right hand in the northern provinces and report any important developments.”

“Understood, your majesty. Anything else you would ask of me?”

“One last thing before you retire for the evening, yes. Summon my brother, I would speak to Deyron.”

Baelos, with his eyes closed, made a deep bow before leaving the emperor’s study. Once out of the chamber, his fast and firm steps echoed through the corridor until they could be heard no longer. Alexius threw his gaze out the window and watched as the golden horizon turned burning crimson and pushed aside a half-empty cup on his desk. As he sat lot in his thoughts, a knock on the door broke his trance and, before long, a man younger than himself, blond of hair and having a well-groomed thick beard, entered the study.

“Baelos let me know you wanted to see me, brother. Splendid timing; the Lord Treasurer approached me just this morning and I intended to let you know. It appears the Delmonian Families are trying to extort the debt out of the Imperial Treasury. You should know that we cannot hope to pay them back, do you not? Our funds are about as real as their hopes of recouping their ‘investment’ and I fear they will rise up in rebellion if we do nothing to at least alleviate their fears.”

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“I know, Deyron, I know. I know yet I can see no course of action. The northerners are squabbling and the Mayreyans have perceived our weakness. Imposing a new tax might alleviate our financial situation, but I have no illusion as to the reaction of the gentry throughout the Empire.”

“If they will neither relent nor pay willingly, then let us do away with them. My own domains can field a decent host and the Valadors and the Talronians will back us, I am sure of it...” argued Deyron, zeal filling his voice and the fires of determination burning in his gaze while Alexius cut him off bluntly.

“If we strike at them openly we risk undoing the Empire, the very reason for which we would attack in the first place! The last thing I will hear about is a second Quicksilver War, brother. No... we cannot be so brazen in handling them, not now.”

“If it is so, then what do you suggest we do? Let them further strengthen the diet and carve away their own petty dukedoms and kingdoms? We must strike before the balance of power tilts in their favour.”

Deyron’s words rang true: they could hardly afford waiting, but the mere thought of an internal conflict left Alexius in despair. He had neither his predecessors’ Imperial Guard nor their strength and charisma. For all this, however, an idea began forming at the forefront of his mind as if placed there by the hand of fate. Conflict was inevitable, yet, perhaps, he might steer it away from his people and unto someone else. The dwarves sat beyond their Steel Pass and there was no easy way of attacking them. Similarly, the Ash’allan Principalities to the south were beyond their reach on the other side of the sea, leaving aside the obvious fact that the Delmonians will protest against such an invasion. The last option was clear: the elves were the most vulnerable of them all and their troves would serve well to draw attention away from their glaring financial problems. All that the emperor needed was a justification to rally his vassals behind and let them dull their blades against the western aliens. With renewed strength of will, he raised his sight to meet his younger brother’s and said:

“Strike we will, but not against the nobles, not openly. We have no hope of breaching the Steel Pass and the Ash’allan Principalities are well out of our reach beyond the sea, but the elves; the elves are right on our doorstep. We take our forces, as well as those of the Delmonians and the Mayreyans and we let them dull their fangs against the elves. If our invasion proves successful we might just pay off the debt and fill the treasury while, if it fails, we still weaken the forces that would divide the Empire.”

“Alexius, this is a gamble at best. Are you certain something like this would work, brother?” asked Deyron, shocked by his older brother’s determination and the wild glint dancing in his eyes.

“I have thought this through; there is no other way to avoid a war inside our realm. As your emperor, I command you to raise your levies and prepare the Expanse to move our armies towards the Broken Spine. Build roads, bridges, prepare stockpiles and curry favours with merchants, everything we are bound to need when moving west.”

“So be it, but on your head be the consequences if this fails, brother.”

“If we let the Empire drift into oblivion, it will mean the end for many more heads than just mine.”