Staidone was the capital of the Siwen dynasty. Founded by the dragon slayer, Florent Mazet. Whether Florent was an actual dragon slayer, it wasn’t clear. He was recorded as a dragon slayer and the first king of the Siwen empire. The record itself was approximately 2,000 years old.
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Staidone was located at the base of mountain Siwen where there was a dragon’s lair allegedly at one point. The holy king Florent slayed it and founded his empire, hence the Siwen empire. Before the dragon was slayed, the whole region was barely habitable due to the dragon wreaking havoc in its vicinity. Everyone lived in deep fears of the dragon descending down on them at any moment. At one point, a hero appeared in the name of Florent Mazet. He formed an adventuring party and went on to slay the dragon.
The empire used to rule over a vast amount of land, including the Kingdom of Egra and Atra. At one point of its history, it went through a turmoil just like any nation would. It eventually recovered but paid a heavy price: The Western and the Southern parts of the empire broke off, resulting in the Siwen empire losing the title “empire” and becoming the Siwen dynasty.
The Western part of the empire renamed itself as the Kingdom of Atra. The Southern part of the empire named itself as the Kingdom of Egra. The founder of Atra was a general who rebelled, and the founder of Egra was a fourth princess of the Mazet who took on a new last name upon establishing her own rule, the Egra. It wasn’t clear why a fourth princess would have done such a thing. Nothing was verified, but the most convincing story was that she was displeased with her arranged marriage and went on to create her own dynasty.
Regardless, since the division, the Siwen worked tirelessly to reunite its lost territory. Alas, even after over a thousand years, they failed to reconquer any of the lands they lost. And now they were gearing up for yet another invasion. Their target was, as usual, the Kingdom of Egra. There were three reasons as to why they prioritized Egra over Atra.
First of all, Egra was a weaker nation due to having far less population, and they wanted sea access. Atra also had a long coast line, but it was a more powerful nation.
Secondly, the Kingdom of Egra was founded by one of their own, Maco Mazet, a fourth princess in her time. Reintegration would go much smoother as a result although they were oblivious to the fact that they had been treating anyone from Egra as lowly peasants, noble or not.
Finally, Maco was recorded as a life mage. They believed that an affinity to life magic wasn’t something that was granted at birth. It was either granted by a God later in one’s life or she had a relic that granted temporary life magic. They believed it was the latter.
Florent Mazet, the dragon slayer, passed down numerous artifacts. One of which was the bracelet of everlife. Most of his artifacts were lost in time. At the moment, the Mazet was in possession of only one artifact which was Florent’s bastard sword, called the Dragonslayer. They believed that Maco stole the bracelet upon fleeing the capital and traveled to the South. They wanted to get it back. In fact, they had always demanded the Kingdom of Egra to return the artifact even though the Egra claimed that they were not aware of such a thing.
A middle-aged man clad in full plate armor stood imposingly on top of a fort wall. He was flanked by two people clad in similar plate armor.
Another man approached them with a scroll in his hand. He, too, was clad in similar armor.
“Our preparation is complete, general,” the man informed the general with a salute.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon to a direction to Dido, he asked, “Any news on the matter?”
“Two houses have agreed with our plan.”
He groaned and muttered, “Only two? I expected more.”
“There are some neutrals who wish to see how the war will go.”
The general laughed powerfully as if he just heard something utterly ridiculous. “No, we will not accept them later. Give them the word. It’s either now or never. They should be glad that we are willing to accept them, scumbags.”
To the Siwen, every noble in the Kingdom of Egra was illegal occupants in spite of the fact that they had been living there for over a thousand years. It was a ridiculous claim for everyone else.
“Understood.” Then the man turned around at once and walked away.
“Hmm…, we will get what is ours back,” the general spoke in a low voice. He was in charge of the previous invasion as well. The defeat left a scar in his ego and pride. He vowed in front of the king to set the score straight and had done everything in his powers to prepare for this invasion in a timely manner. In fact, it took him only three years after increasing taxes and extorting further from his people.
However, the royal council was against Goss’ idea to invade the Kingdom of Egra at that time due to the peace treaty they had signed. Goss argued that the treaty was illegal to begin with since they were illegal occupants. While the council agreed with his view, they still had to keep their eyes out for their neighbors. If they broke a peace treaty, their international reputation would be ruined. It might entice the Kingdom of Atra, Estana, and other nations to form an alliance against them.
In the end, Goss eventually conceded to wait until the peace treaty expired.
“When is the war council ready? I’ve been waiting for ages.”
One of the men flanking the general answered, “We are waiting on the last few.”
The general waved away while letting out a frustrated grunt.
“Those who can’t be on time don’t deserve any honor. We are going to start the war council.”
“Yes, sir!” Both of the men replied promptly.
“General Goss!”
There were six men present in a stoney chamber who stood at once upon Goss’ entrance. They saluted at him. The two men who were accompanying Goss stood firm by the door and no longer followed him.
Marco Goss was the name, the most renowned military general of the Siwen dynasty. The Goss house ruled the western part of the dynasty: Vrnojka, fort Vrnojka, Unlia, Tonga, and finally fort Tonga. Essentially, the house ruled roughly one fourth of the dynasty. It was the most powerful house in the nation.
“At ease, we begin the war council.”
“But, sir, there are still …”
Marco interjected, “We will not wait any longer. Those who are late are not worthy.”
They argued no further and sat down as Marco himself sat down. Their chairs were covered with bear furs, and there were drinks on a stone table along with roasted chickens. In short, they were having a great time. Marco grabbed a chicken leg and twisted it off violently. Taking a big bite, he emptied a whole wine glass after which he let out a loud burp.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“So, what’s the status?”
“42,000 men fully prepared at the fort, General.”
“42? Where are the rest of them?”
They were short three thousand men.
“We are still waiting on Lord Schneider and Lord Feist.”
“Ah, those two,” Marco muttered. “We have enough already. We shall match forth once it warms up. Let them catch up.”
Unlike the Kingdom of Egra where its climate was tropical, the general climate of the Siwen dynasty was temperate with much cooler temperature further up North. In fact, their capital, Staidone, was where winter would last half a year. Thankfully, the long winter was rather mild and wasn’t harsh enough for the populace to die out.
Now, the reason for the Siwen having so much more population compared to the Egra was due to two factors.
One, the human civilization as they knew originated from Staidone. Why they chose to settle down there when there were obviously better places to start a settlement was not clear. It was understood that this was due to the dragon. Apparently, they could have settled down permanently only after the dragon was slayed.
Two, disease outbreaks. In the Kingdom of Egra, a pandemic broke out periodically once every few decades or so. Due to its tropical climate, there was nothing that hindered diseases whereas, in the Siwen dynasty, winter either stopped or hindered spread of diseases.
As a direct result, the population of the Siwen was on a steady increase while the population of the Egra was stagnant. Unless medical technology and hygiene improved, the Kingdom of Egra was at its limit for population.
“Shall we divide our force? And what is our first target?” One of the men asked. His name was Finn Askin, a lord who ruled Teleni and Tarkie. He was a very close ally of the Goss. He was clad in half leather and had a more of a scholarly appearance than that of a warrior with neatly sideways combed brown hair and stubble. His appearance looked fairly young compared to others in the room.
“We do have the option of tackling both fort Dido and Dido at the same time,” another man chimed in. His name was Matheo Mosele, a direct vassal of the Goss. His fief was Tonga. He was bald but featured an impressive beard that reached to his chest. His face was ragged and had numerous visible scars.
“In the last war, our mistake was dividing our forces into numerous smaller ones. We should not do that again,” Finn argued.
“Our force is 45k. It’s too large to maintain a sensible siege with an army that large. We will just be wasting supplies,” Matheo retorted, “I say we route 10k to elsewhere.”
General Goss was silently watching the debate unfold before him while chewing on his chicken leg.
Nino Helnwein was the next one to speak up. He was the king’s delegate and the lord of Puras. He, too, was bald like Mathoe and was clearly shaven.
“It is imperative that we take Dido swiftly so that we will be able to fortify ourselves against Egra’s defense force. I say we use our full might and besiege the city with everything we have. Our aim should be to conquer Dido within ten days.”
Their conversation soon began to descend into incessant chatter with their voices getting louder and louder. At one point, Marco slammed the stone table. Being a stone table however, his slamming didn’t make any audible sound, and no one noticed his ire. Their incessant chatter continued therefore.
Marco’s face reddened due to sheer anger building up inside him. Soon enough, he stood up at once, grabbed a chicken plate nearest to him and threw it into the ground. It was only then the others turned their attention to him with bemused expressions on their faces.
“I AM THE GENERAL!” He barked and panted heavily.
“O, of course, General Goss. Please calm down,” Finn replied apologetically. The others followed quickly.
Meanwhile, Benjamin Strobel, the lord of Alrez and Vedo was in his study with his advisor. The Strobel was one of two houses that was scheming against their own kingdom. He had been in regular contact with General Goss for the past few years.
The Strobel used to be the most powerful house prior to the reunification war. After the war, it became the third powerful house. However, they were never treated as such. Initially, they accepted the mistreatment since they were on the losing side of the war. Regrettably, even after a decade, the situation did not improve at all, and discontent from Benjamin grew to a point that he was now actively seeking a way to break off. If his house was weaker, he may have simply accepted his fate.
His advisor had brought a sealed letter which Benjamin carefully broke the seal with a sharp knife and skimmed through.
“General Goss is asking us to prepare. We are to mobilize our troops in 60 days,” He said and grimaced, “And he is demanding us to make a decision now. He won’t accept those who join later.”
The advisor, too, grimaced. It was a tough demand. He handed the letter over to the advisor, and he eagerly read it.
“Only the Gaessler has given us a clear answer,” his advisor noted, “If we revolt now, we will simply be crushed.”
The Gaessler ruled Valet and was a close personal friend of Benjamin. They were even allied with a marriage. He had his fingers crossed on his desk and was in deep thoughts. It was now or never. If he failed to act now, the outcome would be grim. If the Siwen was victorious, it was likely that he’d be stripped of his title and lands. If they were defeated, the status quo would be maintained and they’d be forever in shadow.
If he revolted, it looked to be equally grim. General Goss promised that he’d be able to keep his lands and that’d be it. It was easy to foresee that they wouldn’t be treated well by the Siwen nobles. If the invasion failed, well, he’d be captured and executed.
“Neither choice seems enticing,” He remarked to which his advisor nodded in agreement.
“But, Milord, we have to make a choice.”
As Benjamin became silent, his advisor brought up something.
“I do have something that might interest you but…” He trailed off.
“What is it?”
“I’ve yet to fully verify the story, so I was hesitant to inform you.”
Benjamin’s left eyebrow rose up. “Oh? Curious. Do go on.”
The advisor informed him of the event between the Fenchel, the Flissing, and the royals.
“The king personally proposed a marriage between the heir of the Fenchel and his second princess. However, the Fenchel broke it off unilaterally and foraged a marriage tie with the Flissing instead.”
Benjamin snickered. “Knowing his highness, he must have been livid.”
The advisor nodded and said, “I’ve verified this to be true. What I am about to tell you, however, has not been verified.”
He made a short pause before continuing.
“I’ve been informed that the king plans to punish the Fenchel after the war.”
“After the war…? I assume that is because of the impending war.”
The advisor nodded and added, “And the Fenchel is aware of this and may act … awry.”
A crooked grin appeared on Benjamin’s face, and the advisor saw his grin and hurriedly told him.
“Milord, I must remind you that it has not been verified.”
“Something like that won’t ever be verified until it’s advanced too far at which point it will be too late,” Benjamin retorted, and he didn’t disagree.
“I am assuming here that the Flissing will side with the Fenchel,” Benjamin said. It was this moment that the advisor sighed.
“It’s … complicated, Milord. The royals and the Flissing have agreed on a marriage between the heir and the second princess.”
Benjamin began rubbing his temple at this point. “What is going on here?” He raised his voice. “Something doesn’t add up.”
The Fenchel wouldn’t scheme anything without backing from the Flissing was their line of thoughts.
“Which is why I’ve told you that I haven’t verified the story.”
“It will be too late by the time it’s verified. We do not have the time.”
The men grimaced, and an uneasy silence dominated the air.
“We have to do it. We just have to do it,” Benjamin eventually declared. “Start gathering supplies, and send letters to the houses once again. Do tell them that this is the last chance. They cannot join us later.”
“Are you absolutely certain that you wish to go ahead with this?” His advisor asked with a grave tone. There was no going back once the decision was made. Once word spread that the Strobel was gathering supplies, questions would be asked by the royals since they weren’t given permission to mobilize. The Strobel would ignore such questions. Then the invasion would occur.
Benjamin had a firm look in his eyes; he made a decision.
“Do it.”
Nodding, his advisor turned around and left the study at once.
“There is no going back now,” He whispered to himself with his heart pounding inside. Then, with a grunt, he stood up from his chair and faced a window. Looking down on the front garden, his head was swirling with various thoughts, and he was sweating. He was very, very, nervous, for he just made a decision of his life.
Under normal circumstances, he would have spent more time investigating the unverified rumor which his advisor told him. Alas, there were only 60 days. It may sound a long time but, to mobilize an army, it required time. Securing supplies took time, assembling troops took time, and creating a proper command structure took time. At the minimum, he needed 30 days, leaving him another 30 days for him to investigate which he felt wasn’t enough. The distance to cover was too long even if he used wind mages to communicate. A discreet investigation took more time as well. In the end, he decided to trust his gut feelings. Still, he couldn’t help but to feel that he was navigating a waist deep body of mucky water in dim light; there were just so many variables that he hated the whole situation before him. For a cautious type like him, this was a pure nightmare scenario.
He grunted once again and fixed his pants. It was now or never.