“My wise lords, upon learning of the Traitor Prince Alvin’s freedom and arrival in Hawkthrone; Houses Haukr, Carlyle, Carodin, Rutley, Kestrel, Argyle, Browman, Bronnswick, Swathmire, Feredach, Urgwyll, Caerwin and Tarslach have all declared open support for the Meltonian Free Army. The rest of the houses remain mostly in support of the throne, with the only exceptions being the Frostwind clans. Many of whom have chosen to remain neutral or only actively willing to engage clans Urgwyll and Feredach in conflict whilst refusing to support any proper offensive due to displeasure with our association to the orcs. Master Orland also reports rumors of two beastfolk rebellions beginning to sprout in the south as the situation deteriorates. One in Draeceni proper, the other out near the western coastal towns, though both are contained so far.”
- Sir Garric Talishorn, Report to the First Witan of High King Edward Meltius.
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King Edward ripped the sword out of the hapless victim, steel rending flesh as the viscera splattered around him. With one last gasp of breath, the once lively eyes of Baroness Muriel Carodin flicked into lifeless husks as her body slumped to the ground. The gaudy and ostentatious crone, dotted with foreign finery and jewels, who bragged about sending her son to join the prince’s guard could trouble the new regime no longer. Edward grunted from the effort as he turned back to nod at Lord Aaron Roderick. The armoured figure replied with a swift salute and quickly directed the troops to burn down what was left of House Carodin’s estate, their lands to be salted and their people dispersed to other parts of the realm. The rebels will think twice before they threaten the war effort now.
Lord Roderick the Lion''s Blade stood unflinching in full blue-gold plate armour whilst he stared at the now ruined estate. Though Edward was concerned for his childhood friend’s mental wellbeing, he knew that now was not the time for doubt or distractions and that they needed to keep up the momentum should they seek to quell the sparks of rebellion before they burned. With most of Melton’s army under loyalist command with Marshal Sykes at the helm against Carrador, that left only a precious few troop formations left for interior security. Sending the main defensive contingent to beat down any signs of beast men rebels to the south, Edward had decided to lead by example and led the capital guard alongside ad-hoc militia and orcish auxiliary formations against any traitors near Melisgrad as his brother prepared for a rushed attack on the capital.
First to go had been House Rutley, the loss of Earl Rutley during the coup had left a simmering resentment that boiled over to actively raiding supplies bound for the warfront. Evidently Lord Aeldred’s diplomatic efforts failed and even sparked a minor crisis as the previously neutral House Carodin also declared for the rebellion. Sparing the younger Arlessa Rutley, her early surrender had allowed for Edward’s troop to march against the stubborn Lady of House Carodin. Though outnumbered, the household troops fought to the last as even Warchief Grimfang let out an approving nod at their tenacity as they finally fell.
“Brave if foolish.” Grimfang nodded when he noticed Edward’s gaze fall over him, “How many more?”
“Only a handful, two more and they should submit.” Edward sighed, “Though I’m hoping our swift response here instills enough doubt for them to think twice and at least remain neutral, the barons and counts that is. The ducal counties have declared already and there''s no going back for them. In truth I would prefer if we could avoid more bloodshed amongst brothers.”
“Heh, you manlings and your titles. Does it not make it easier for one to desire more? Where one rat scurries into darkness, ten more rise up coveting their position. In the tribe, you are a warrior, non warrior, warchief, or some other role of importance and that’s it. Few would covet more and those who do must be able to challenge the others and win or perish, simple as that.” Grimfang grinned.
“If only things could be that simple.”
“They could be if you simply freed yourself from your manling courts.”
“And give up everything we worked to gain?”
“All you have will bring about nothing but more pain, manling.”
“Perhaps, but at this point we cannot back down. These are my people, my countrymen, my subjects, and they deserve to know freedom after my father’s tyranny and inaction!” Edward huffed back.
The warchief gave him a nonchalant shrug and gestured towards a bushy bearded figure with a rough jagged set of antlers flying above the brown bear skin cowl on his head. “Your shaman.” Grimfang stated the obvious.
Edward stifled a scowl and bowed politely at the approaching druid, the man’s scraggly appearance not much of a surprise as his dealings with the druidic orders have always been less than stellar. Still, their blessings were a necessary part in keeping the tribal clans pacified whilst the main noble houses were purged of traitors. Their magics too he had to admit, were likely to serve as powerful assets should the need arise. Though like the clans, they too voiced their objections against cooperation with the orcs. A shame really, at the end of the day they’re just trying to survive, willing to do anything even if it means making new allies. A new chapter for both our peoples and the tribes still complain, tch.
“Honored one of the circles! To what do we owe this meeting to?” Edward called out to the man.
The druid raised an eyebrow before dropping it into a low scowl at the sight of the warchief. Either ignorant or simply uncaring, the orc carried on sweeping the manor grounds and soon the druid continued his approach. The middle aged if slightly elderly magi dipped his head at the King and pulled out a small rolled up parchment from his myriad of holes and pockets in his robes.
“Wise King of the fair folk, the wildings and the outcasts.” The druid began before clasping his hands around the parchment and bowing again, “Nadari beandicit vosthu.”
“RIght…likewise honored one.” Edward replied awkwardly. The speeches of the wildmen and tribals were often so jumbled and bastardized that having a meeting with any of their representatives often gave him headaches. But not right now, breath and focus, it’s just one druid this time. “So what news does the circle bring?” He tried prodding again.
“Loquidh nar, the circle of the bear brings you news from our elder.” The druid stuck out the paper and Edward grabbed it. “Watch the portent of the skies, cave a’bhrum. Read carefully the words of the land, I come bearing the news of the gatherings, the great moots of wisdom. Leis an divinius maor.”
Edward knew he was a royal, trained, practiced and even bred to maintain a sense of decorum even in the darkest hours. But as he put on his most polite smile, he could feel his brows on the verge of twitching, the migraine ready to burst wide the more the druid spoke. Important words, the man is saying important words.
As he held back on last sigh he unfurled the parchment to find it written in traditional druidic speech. Which is to say lots of squiggles, sigils, lines and all manner of incomprehensible drawings. We are at war, this doesn’t matter. He took another look at it and looked back at the druid who was just nodding sagely.
“Bandia eus nadari beandicit, am madapus air do vos…” And on the druid went, sprouting a series of nonsensical noises that occasionally contained common and hints of other languages he recognised. Figuring out that the druid was simply reading the message, Edward just stood there mutely as the uncaring sorcerer continued reciting the letter until the very end, leaving Edward no where close to understanding anything than when he had begun.
Edward finally let out a sigh and just settled for nodding appreciatively at the druid.
“Right you are, thanks for the warning master…err…”
“Minder Lucas of the Circle of the Bear.”
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“Of course, thanks again master Lucas. If there was anything else?”
The druid paused and gazed at the sky, throwing up a handful of dirt above his face before he shook his head and left as promptly as he arrived. Edward allowed his brow to twitch in frustration as he turned back to fire behind him, the last of the estate turning to a charred ruin as the troops returned to their mounts. Warchief Grimfang met his gaze and raised a curious brow only to receive Edward’s exasperated shake of his head in response. By the divines the druids are all daft in the head. Roderick on the other hand regained his composure as Edward spied him giving out orders, his eerily silent fascination with the fire returning back to a more normal demeanor.
‘Your highness.” Roderick bowed when he noticed Edward’s gaze.
“Roderick.”
“With House Carodin gone, the pathway to Hawkthrone demesne is now open to us…” Roderick began.
“...And so my brother is in sight once again but this time at the head of an army.” Edward cursed under his breath only for Roderick’s armoured hand to rest awkwardly on his pauldrons.
“But only a few companies, mostly levies too. Nothing we can’t handle.”
“But a few more than none, and some of ours too!”
“True, but you had to expect some banner-men and knight orders to defect. Many held their loyalties to King…your father Bran more than they did to the kingdom.”
“Tch, so much for their oaths. Any more updates on their numbers?”
“If Lord Aeldred and Marshal Skye’s reports compliment each other then two knight orders; Lion’s Fists and The Forgotten. Alongside a company of deserters from the royal army, likely professionals from rebel domains. Then the original two companies of ducal troops with the Hawkthrone duchy under Duke Haukr.”
“And the Lionshunt?”
At that Lord Roderick paused and Edward braced himself for the bad news.
“They…Baron Eadric the Knight Commander has refused to provide any manpower support though their official stance is in support of you. And…”
“The useless wretch, does he hold no place in his heart for the people of Melton, bah! Does he even care about the realm at all?! To think father appointed him just shows how deluded he was.”
“My lord…”
“The Lionshunt has remained defiant even now, let him understand that they swore an oath to the realm and I expect them to fulfill it whatever their personal goals are.” Edward fumed, the Lionshunt were nominally loyal to him but Baron Eadric could prove to be a powerful threat. A man with just enough influence and initiative to be able to remain outside the direct chain of command. Though he bemoaned the existence of such a horrid little wastrel, he couldn’t deny that at the very least, the Lionshunt had been suppressing beastfolk dissidents quite well during his father’s reign, something they capitalised on to gain more control over the Meltonian security apparatus. But with the coup and his father’s removal from office they had grown bold, something he would need to remedy soon enough.
“Sire…”
“What?!” Edward snapped before looking apologetic as his friend recoiled a little, “Sorry, I spoke in haste Roderick, what else?”
“Remember how we pressed Eadric for explanations before?” Roderick sheepishly said.
“I don’t like where this is going, is it more trouble?” Edward scowled, this day just gets worse and worse.
“This morning I got a message from a rider just before the assault began, turns out the huntsmen lost your brother due to Astralian interference.”
“Pardon?” Edward froze, the church? Even them? And there’s at least a company of templars up at Barrowlake, are they planning to start another war? For Carrador?!
“He said that Prince Alvin escaped because of church intervention. The blackcoats.” Roderick whispered.
Edward paled, the church’s lapdogs? Operating here? Are they after the druids?
“Sire.”
“Sorry, go on?”
“Bad news and good news there..” Roderick spoke and Edward listened with rapt attention, “They were ecclesiarch affiliated, inquisitors no doubt. But…”
“But…?” Don’t do this to me Roderick.
“But he also suspects they were merely following the trails of some heretics or another and accidentally stumbled upon the operation. A separate party too, not the main force that is currently encamped around Barrowlake, but they looked like they were headed for Melisgrad.”
Meeting Roderick’s gaze, both of them breathed a small sigh of relief. But if they stumbled upon the ritual…
“We’ve only got a little more to do, we have to make sure they don’t realise what the Circles have planned. Any idea if this group is a scouting party?”
“No confirmation from our own people or the Lionshunt.”
“Tch, then I suppose we have to assume hostile intent” Edward clenched his fists as he turned to the warchief, “Chieftain Grimfang!” He shouted.
The orc seemed surprised at the sudden summons and strode away from the ruins, his massive hands clutching some spoils from the battle that Edward conveniently tried to ignore the fact that they were recently extracted from the deceased Baroness.
“Manling?”
“Word just came in, a few wanderers are causing some trouble to our plans. They cannot be allowed to discover the ritual of the wilds.” Edward ordered.
“Heh, you want me to protect your wildlings? The ones who despise my people and our shamanic ways?” Grimfang put on an evil grin.
“The very same ones.” Edward sighed, this is gonna be a disaster.
Grimfang chuckled and dipped his head mockingly, “So who’s the target…my lord.”
Edward grimaced at the strange shift of manners before he continued, “Just call me a manling, formality does not suit you here."
“As you wish... manling.”
“Anyways a squad of black clad warriors, Astral inquisitors, the ones who hunt down heretics including your peoples along the borders. Battle tested and strong warriors if reports are to be believed. They are getting a little too close for comfort and we have to ensure that everything happens according to schedule. Especially if they are actively seeking to root out the druids, however much joy that would be to you as well.”
“Could’ve stopped at strong warriors.”
The two looked at each other and Edward just shrugged.
“Alright then manling, I suppose that means you want me to take care of this? Instead of being on the battlelines.”
“Mmhmm.” Edward affirmed, “I’ve been wondering how to spin the orcish raiders assisting us to capture my brother to be honest. Public sentiment is already divided enough and…”
“I get it, your reputation and standing heh. Like I said, if you can forget about that, then things just get that much easier,” Grimfang smirked, “But don’t worry manling, this quarry will be taken care of easily enough. Should I leave the main war parties here then?”
Edward turned to Roderick who nodded, a few elite warriors wouldn’t hurt.
“Very well, a few inquisitors shouldn’t take more than a raiding party anyways, the rest will remain here with you, manling. What was it you people say when they adjourn? The pride roars eternal?” Grimfang affirmed.
“The pride roars eternal.”
The other two echoed and Grimfang gave a mischievous nod as he departed. Edward looked back at Roderick before both turned to watch the large warchief depart, a faint feeling niggling in the back of his mind, why do I feel like letting him loose was a bad idea.
“Sire.” Roderick interrupted his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“House Carodin is destroyed save for your brother’s honour guard,” Roderick gestured to the wreckage, “This is now behind us my lord, the men await new orders.”
“Right.” Edward recovered, “Right, tell them to get ready to march against the Hawkthrone Duchy, double time it to the Melisi river and establish fortifications. If Alvin is to try to rush the capital we will be there to halt his advance.”
“Of course my lord. May the pride roar eternal.”
“The pride roars eternal.” Edward replied as Roderick went to gather the men.
Taking one last look over at the fallen house, Edward wondered how quickly this war would end and for the briefest moment, allowed a small sliver of doubt to take root. Did I do the right thing? How many more rebel houses must we extinguish before they realise the true nature of the threats that face us? But the sound of gathering boots and metal clanking snapped him out of his thoughts again and he turned to face the soldiers huddling up in front of Lord Roderick. I suppose I should say a few words after he’s done. With another dejected huff Edward readied himself for the trials to come, no more room for doubt, but if you can hear me brother, I’m sorry it’s come to this.