The soft thrum of the portal slowly wound down. The King of Tarkon exited the arch with his knights in toe. It was a familiar sight, the portal of the palace. The portal system spanned the breadth of the Empire and was under the direct administration of his imperial majesty. Every corner of the Empire was within reach and Andrei’s own kingdom was no exception.
The monarch made his way to the throne room, palming off several soft handed imperial functionaries. Most realised the martial king was not a fan of the imperial capital. Warfare raised his family, and even the royal family had to learn combat. The difference between the rest of the Empire and Tarkon was how the king lead.
The martial king led from the front, while the others lead from the back. Not that he didn’t understand their perspective. The life of a ruler was paramount, but how could want many remain loyal when their sovereign was safe and cosy in his palace?
This difference led to a vast difference in culture between Tarkon and the rest of the Empire. While Tarkon was less efficient regarding administrative work, their military was far superior. The nobles also received far greater loyalty from the populace. Some have said that their loyalty lies with the king, rather than the emperor. Of course, fools spoke these sentiments in private or openly.
Arriving in the throne room, Andrei barely acknowledged the rest of the court and simply knelt to his liege. His own knights did so as well, waiting for the emperor to grant them leave to rise. He did so, and the Tarkonian king took the assembled room into view.
The sight of the Emperor, seated upon his throne, regal as ever. To his left and right were the respective imperial court members. The Imperial Court Wizard and strangely the Grandmaster of the Paladin Order of Pyrus. He respected the warrior, but rarely saw him at court.
The man was tall, broad shouldered and had an air of a seasoned warrior. The grey hair and lines on his face showcased the wear and tear of time. Despite all that, his calm, predatory brown eyes quietly observed the world. He was a veteran of many battles against heretics, monsters, and demonic forces. Lord Pyrus's favour blessed the Paladin, making him the best of the best.
Casting his gaze around, he noticed another set of people that caused his heart to skip a beat. The three youngsters, barely out of their teens, stood to the side. They didn’t seem like much to the untrained eye. But to those of the faith, he could sense the immense power invested within them. It made him shiver to be in their presence and envious of the grace given upon them.
“King Tarkon.” The emperor greeted with a slight bow.
“Blessed Emperor,” Andrei replied with a slightly lower bow.
“Have you heard the reports?” The emperor asked.
“Yes, your majesty, the Lankosians are on our border and diplomacy has failed. I was planning the defence when word of the rebellion came to me.”
“Yes, dire news on two fronts.”
While the solemn atmosphere descended, a paladin stepped forward. Knelt to the emperor, waiting on leave to rise. The monarch gestured for him to do so, and the stern face of a holy warrior met his liege.
“Blessed Emperor, if I am might add. The circumstances of these two threats are suspect. It is likely the Lankosian invaders are colluding with the Helgosian heretics.” While making his accusation, the paladin glanced at the imperial court wizard.
Anyone with any sense knew of the rivalry between the two factions. The Paladin order had always kept the faith and expounded on the purity of spirit magic. Many saw wizardry as unclean, despite the emperor's legalization with many restrictions.
Andrei had no prejudice against wizards. Sure, they had colluded with the unclean in the past. But that was the heretics. Being a wizard doesn’t make you a heretic. Turning from the faith was the true heresy. In fact, he had a few wizards of the faith in his kingdom.
The rebellion of Helgos was lamentable but expected. They were far too divergent from imperial culture. Despite the emperor's attempts to integrate them and the general acceptance of wizards in his own kingdom. The Helgosians would never truly kneel.
He could understand that being the former scions of a great and powerful wizard kingdom. Being denigrated to a mere vassal likely hurt their pride. The contradiction in his own thoughts aside, since he himself bowed to imperial might.
His satisfaction depended on the Empire's continued loyalty. That was the crux of the situation. Over the years, the emperor was turning from the patron spirits. Allowing secular policies to overrule the wisdom of superior beings.
“We do not know that for certain. It would be best if we approached the situation diplomatically.” The emperor added, trying to maintain a stern expression.
“If I might add, your majesty, perhaps a show of strength is preferable. The Paladin order mobilising would send a simple message.” Andrei interjected.
Seemingly in response to his words, the paladin's pride swelled. The emperor took a moment to mull over his words. The suggestion made sense, and he had not overtly impressed the might of the Empire on Helgos in his entire reign. He wanted his rule to be far more peaceful than the chaos bearing down on him.
Shifting his gaze to the heroic trinity, the emperor recalled their report. He was not ignorant to dangerous being known only as the Blue Dragon. But surely one man could not contend with an entire paladin legion.
“I understand and agree. Send the paladin legion to impress upon Helgos the folly of rebellion.” Rising to his feet, he let loose his imperial command.
In emperor's past, this was an absolute order that all would obey. To the king of Tarkon, it sounded more like a suggestion. Regardless of his own feelings, the paladin jumped on the chance to burn heretics. His faith was strong, a little too strong in Andrei’s opinion.
The patron spirits had the use of the exceptional, but it always confounded him why Pyrus allowed sycophants. He supposed zealots had their uses. He wondered if this was the last he would ever see that smug face again.
“About the Lankosian’s?” Andrei shifted the topic just as the paladin bowed and left the throne room.
The paladin left like he was a man on a mission. He supposed he was nothing better for a man's pride than to kill his enemies. Whether they are his enemies seems like a secondary thought.
“Yes, the defence is important. But with this state of affairs, it is best to maintain defensive lines. Overextending our military with a potential enemy to the north is unwise.” The emperor explained.
He was not wrong, that much Andrei understood. It was best not to commit too much to one enemy when another lingers. Fighting on two fronts is never a sound strategy. Of course, explaining this to the men would be difficult. They would only see the emperor cleaving them from the herd.
“How long must we remain on the defensive?” Andrei asked, a slight tinge of anger seeping into his voice.
It was uncertain if the emperor noticed his vassal’s displeasure. Andrei had always been a stoic man, never letting his feelings breach the surface.
“Until we neutralize the rebellion and send relief forces from the capital.”
In truth, his decision was sound. Sending forces from the imperial interior would diminish the defensive strength of the lands directly administered by the emperor. If this rebellion escalated, they would see armies of wizards descending to the capital.
The power Helgos wielded had not diminished enough for the Empire to relax. Despite decades of portraying itself as a loyal vassal state. Many at court believed the many factions within the former wizard kingdom were accruing power.
In a sense, this was true, but on the surface, it was the guilds growing in power, not the nation itself. They were a national institution legitimised by the emperor. Some claim this was foolish, and they were about to be made correct.
“I understand, blessed one and will carry out the defence with the forces at my disposal.”
“That is well and good. Now let us turn to the matter of reports.” The emperor shifted his gaze to the court wizard, dismissing the kneeling king.
Andrei rose to his full height and took position at the right beside his loyal men.
“I have received a memoriam from one of our scouts.” The wizard answered, pulling a crystalline orb from his robe.
Wizards knew the orb was a memoriam vessel and used it to store memories for later perusing. The magic was in the old days, rare and considered dangerous. But the imperial court wizard had developed a treasured tool of the Empire.
This artefact could be bound to a wizard and feed a record of memories, turning the wizard into a recording device over a long distance. It could only work with skilled wizards that could maintain the spell connection. The orb glowed in his hand, while his other hovered above. Then, with a quick inhale, he began the magical invocation.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“From the depths of the mind to the forefront of reality. I command the orb of Memoria; show me the past I desire.” After his long-winded spell, the orb flashed disjointed images.
With a flick of his wrist, he projected the image above the assembled court. The projection displayed a first-person perspective of events. It appeared to be a man crouching behind some bushes, observing a small town. The wooden thatched roofs and dirt pathways revealed it to be a poor backwater settlement.
However, its economic status was not the feature that locked everyone's gazes. It was the fact it was on fire and the screams of the dying hung in the air. Villages wielding pitchforks and hoes fought off a swarm of humanoid beast.
The attack was savage, yet the beasts were well armed and armoured. They appeared to be a genuine army, laying siege to their enemy. Yet what horrified the assembled was the glee in their eyes. At least that’s how they saw it. Humanoid hyenas, tigers and leopards were not the most expressive of human standards.
What really assured their viewpoint was how they efficiently slaughtered villages like cattle. Swords, claws, and spears were the weapons of choice. Death was on the menu, and everyone could see the enemy partaking vigorously. Suddenly, the projection ended, leaving everyone to release a gasp of air. Mant held their breath, while others visibly raged at their fellow humans' deaths.
“Savages, they are inhuman!” One noble announced.
Andrei looked at the man, incredulous at the audacity of these imperials had. The sight hadn’t affected him. Why would it? He had seen it all before. In fact, he had conducted similar raids himself.
War was neither a pretty sight nor a noble venture. No matter what the bards say, nor the high nobles claim. War is a blood sport where slaughter, rape and pillaging is an occupational hazard.
“As you can see, the enemy executes themselves with barbaric war practices. So, we must resolve the Helgos matter quickly, so we may repel the invaders.” The emperor proclaimed, receiving praises from his sycophants.
“I will go as well.” The voice of a young man interjected.
Everyone turned to the stern face of Peter, the young champion of Aquara. The teenager emerged from the side, ignoring the harsh glare of Jasmine. Determination filled his eyes. It was clear why.
The horror that crossed his expression as he took in the barbarism slaughter of civilians. The three heroes each had different reactions. Jasmine remained calm. Young Lucy covered her face. But it was Peter that seethed with indignant rage.
Andrei could respect that the boy had a fire in him. Despite being a champion of a water deity. The concept of the great spirit of the ocean as a deity unnerved him. While he worshipped Pyrus, the fire spirit never claimed to be a god. Not like the vampire overlords of long past. The very self proclaimed Twilight gods that built the foundations of his own kingdom.
Demon hands stained the notion that irritated him. He held no real prejudice; rather, his ancestors had appropriated existing structures. They had created nothing new. That in itself was practical. The fortress walls of Tarkon were a sight to behold. He wondered how the barbarians would fare, trying to breach walls that have stood for centuries.
The emperor nodded, giving leave for the young hero. Andrei suspected that the little song and dance galvanised the young man. The slaughter of innocents is an excellent motivator for the young and naïve. He had seen it all before, young soldiers running into battle for justice or vengeance. They learned quick or die, a less he wondered if the junior champion would learn.
We left the throne room soon after. The rest of the emperor's ramblings with his retainers were too dull to warrant attention. The king wanted more from his liege, but to have three heroes was not half bad. He was not aware of the full scope of their powers beyond the legends. But if the spirits anointed them, they were likely a force to be reckoned with.
Though he had heard the champion of fire was a timid girl. Not exactly fighting material, despite the obvious power invested in her. If he was honest, he didn’t want to put a little girl on the front lines to burn his enemies by the thousands. There are limits in war and sending children seems dishonourable. War is an adults game, much like the acts in the bedroom. Not for the eyes and minds of the children.
The King of Tarkon. His knights and the three heroes passed through the portal. Emerging on the other side in the capital city of Skellig. It was not a large city, nothing to boast of when compared to the holy land. The vampires of old made with practicality in mind it. According to the legend, the twilight gods desired servants amongst the mortals.
Humanity was one such client race, slaves from a certain perspective. An ancient warrior, who proved himself in battle, inherited the Kingdom of Tarkon. The strength of his arm and the bravery of his heart saw his house rise. Many like to tell this tale, but more than likely, he was just a useful slave that hit things better than the next guy.
These thoughts raced through his mind. Despite appearances, the king had a mind that thought beyond where the pointy steel goes. He just kept up the rouse to ensure everyone underestimated him. For now, it was time to assign jobs to the youngster heroes. Best to get the most use out of them, before the emperor recalls them.
“Your majesty.” The guardian of the portal knelt, following Andrei’s exit.
"Assign tasks to the heroes. I believe the young Lucy is best suited to boost the morale of the men. Make sure people see and hear her."
Turning back to the assembled heroes and their escorts. He nodded to the eldest, the uncommonly mature champion of Terranuk. The young lady nodded, accepting the assigned role.
"The two of you will accompany me to the war room. We have much to discuss."
Allowing no further debate, he headed towards the very location where they would plan the upcoming defence. Saying their farewells to the youngest, the two heroes followed along. Most historians considered the palace a fortress. The kings of old Tarkon refused to add any trappings of wealth and so the palace remained as it is.
Arriving at a large room with a round table, his generals greeted Andrei. The three veteran leaders of many battles saluted as the king entered. It was a privilege only afforded to military figures of significant rank.
The Tarkonian king is both monarch and marshal, thus generals directly below him salute instead of kneeling. The three stood around the wide wooden table, inspecting the giant map. Their attendants stationed themselves behind them, ready to act when called.
“General Thrahg, how goes the reports from the eastern borderlands?” The king inquired.
The still saluting general was over six feet tall, slim for a soldier. He had a lean build, clean-shaved face and intelligent amber eyes. He was the youngest of the three, being in his mid-thirties. General Orson Thrahg, commander of the eastern army that patrolled the border. This man was the first to raise the alarm when his forces encountered a scouting party.
“I have a report from castle Ithgar. The Lankosians apparently sent a delegation with demands to vacate from the eastern plains. Naturally, the castle commander refused and is now under siege as we speak.” Orson explained plainly and to the point.
“How long will Ithgar last and do we have a count of the enemy forces?”
“If the count is accurate, Ithgar will fall in a matter of days.” Orson answered, setting a grim atmosphere.
“Explain?” The king questioned, steel entering his voice.
“The reports beggar belief, sire. They claim an army over two hundred thousand strong descends upon us.” The second man spoke, interceding on behalf of Orson.
The man was the visible opposite of Orson, a large slab of muscle. People would have considered him a bodybuilder had he lived on Earth. His shaved head and stern brown eyes surveyed everything, assessing whether they could be crushed in his powerful hands.
The king did not mind his intercession, the three could speak plainly in his presence. Besides, the number was a staggering amount. Tarkon could field an army of eighty thousand men. This figure was without the garrisons of each fortress, if emptied, they would put the total army at one hundred and fifty thousand.
“I wonder how they can maintain such a force?” He wondered.
“It is a point of interest, my liege. Our scouts have returned with reports of a multitude of races amongst the army. Rumours of a unification in Lankos were not mere rumours, as it seems.” The third general added.
“Agreed, but with such an army, only recently unified under one leader. They are likely not battle tested.” Andrei stated, taking a bit of pride in his own more modest army.
The third man was so named General Elrik Gorgson, a stout man of around late forties with short sandy brown hair and a square jaw. All three wore matching military uniforms in the Tarkonian style. Formal, form fitting grey suits with decorative insignias on their wrists that signify their rank. Each symbol etched in the fabric represents a mastery of a skill. Sword for skill in combat, hammer, skill in forging, and fist for leadership. The decorations around the insignias determine the level of skill and thus rank. All three generals have the full six chevrons around their individual fist insignias.
The room quickly descended into discussions on siege defence, troop movements, supplies and sending out a general alert to all villages and towns. The Lankosian forces are many and will probably take time to reach the interior kingdom. Tarkon had the benefit of superior defences with their castles and fortress cities.
The main issue was the subjects who could not hide behind walls and soldiers. Someone would have to move them to fortified locations to prevent the Lankosians from slaughtering them during their bloody march. Everyone knew the beast-kin took no prisoners except for martial slaves. Andrei thought on all these subjects as his generals debated.
Another concept wormed its way into his mind. The heroes stood behind him, each of them silent and respectful. He wondered how best to use them. He had thoroughly researched their capabilities. The updates he received from the holy lands were extensive. He recently noticed a key factor—the addition of ice-based abilities.
Historically, there have been some water magi that could command the frost. But they were rare even amongst the champions of legend. This Peter would be most useful in siege defence. Freezing potential ascenders as they tried to hook ladders on the wall.
With this in mind, he kept both Peter and Jasmine in Kalden Keep. They will plan this war in Kalden Keep, their current fortress. The true border fortress, Castle Melkan, will be the first to face a siege. Any army worth its salt will need it a forward base. Melkan along with castle Hemian are the two fortifications that keep the eastern plains under Tarkonian control.
The plains are a valuable resource for the kingdom. The beast-kin that once lived there woefully underutilised the amount of land. Andrei’s grandfather purged these lands and claimed it over a century ago. Currently, the twin castles were a beacon of safety for all the farming towns that dotted the landscape.
Melkan will fall as they will concentrate their forces and overwhelm the defences. What happens to the farming towns and their citizens if they cannot reach the interior? The Emperor's pet wizards are stationed throughout the Empire. Andrei didn’t realise he had some in the eastern plains.
Regardless, the Generals made their plans, and the king approved it, with a few alterations here and there. They would keep the heroes in reserve. Evacuation of the plains is necessary. He knew that was an inaccurate description. Based on reports over the years, Lankos has unified into a semblance of an army. Their infantry is most impressive, and their archers are darn near accurate as a hawk.
He suspected they had segregated the different races with capabilities. The races with enhanced senses and mobility ended up in the archers. Those with superior physical attributes and experience in war ended up in the infantry. They had no cavalry to speak of, likely because of his grandfather's zealous purge of the plains.
His father had a particular disdain for the now near extinct Centaurs. Apparently, one had raped his daughter at least according to the rumour. From then on, he made it his kingly prerogative to wipe the species from the face of the plains.
But all of that is the past, now we are in the present. Conflict is upon us. War shall rage in the east, heresy in the north. He wondered what would become of the Empire when the dust settles. If there is even an empire left.