25 years ago

It has only been a few months at most. Two short months of a war that James knows should not have started in the first place.

Altwin was at one point a rarely small country of the outlands. Just two hundred years ago, its prince, Prince Aluune the II, managed to barter freedom of his territory from the kingdom of Duurberg. This came about with much bloodshed, as the king constantly fought against other nations who saw a new piece of meat added to the lawless market of the Outlands' bizarre. So, they had to make allies. Unlikely allies. It is unclear how or when, but soon a prince of Aetos decided to take the prince's daughter as his wife, and that alone gave them the support they needed. So much support, in fact that they actually began to expand their borders. One by one, they began taking over more and more land from their surroundings, small princedom after small princedom falling under the raised flag of Altwin. They grew in size and wealth, became quite the player in the new hierarchy, and kept it's close ties to Aetos through the marriage of their royalty. They had grown so large that they, in fact, started calling themselves an empire. The Altwin Empire was to be the greatest nation in the history of the outlands.

And yet, it was always destined to burn to the ground.

The motivation of the clans to start wars is often intricate, rarely simple. They are far from warmongering, but they will gladly fight any who threatens them. They see themselves as a larger beast of the plains, but they did not wish to slaughter their neighbors for what measly scraps they possess. In the past, The Empire started wars over broken treaties, murdered ambassadors, and unsavory acts committed towards their citizens. The Dulindar massacre is a perfect example of this, a knight slaughtering an entire village because an ambassador was assassinated in foreign lands. And while the clans shun such unnecessary cruelty, they are not above it. And the king of the Altwin empire had made sure that their ties be kept strong with such a monster to ensure their own safety above all else. And the clans appreciated this effort, celebrating in their halls and enjoying the small bastion of the outlands that could not be mistaken for boorish brutes.

That was until king Tallimus ascended to the throne. In his time as a prince, he was a warrior above all else, above leadership, even. He was trained under Clan swordsmen, was schooled by a plethora of scholars, and generally beloved by his people for a symbol of prowess. But this was not enough for the king. Not by far. He simply wanted more, to ensure his empire's place in history as far more than the swill that surrounded them, the one gold amongst copper, who can sit beside the jewels of the western kingdoms. So, he launched his wars. More territory was added, princedoms being absorbed and transferred. But unlike before, where princedoms were only to be assimilated into their hierarchy, King Tallimus began killing the head of houses in the most brutal fashions. The armies of Altwin were far more ferocious under his rule and never surrendered a single fight. And any ruler who fell to them in his conquer met an end: them and their entire line. The rebellion was not tolerated, nor was descent among the people. They shall be a part of this empire or die fighting it. And he was not above some of the cruelest acts to get this point across. He would cut food for entire villages, exile men and women from their homes to live in the hills to battle the elements. Killing those who openly critiqued his savage rule and rebellions were met with the harshest of atrocities, not only on its participants but anywhere these beliefs could propagate.

No better tale illustrates this to the Empire of Clans than the Sautrobar incident. Sautrobar was a small princedom that had recently been conquered by Altwin, and as practiced, the beloved royal family was slaughtered, executed. This sparked a fairly passionate rebellion. Their kingdom was settled in the middle of a great lake, only connected to the mainland through a few bridges that span the deep waters. King Tallimus wished to build more to make it easier for his soldiers to march through. The resistance came when rebellious groups began destroying these bridges. They used merchant ships, burn them and breaking supports, and killing those who worked or protected these bridges. This, in turn, led to a few battles before the rebellion was brought into submission, and the princedom was firmly in Altwin hands.

But Tallimus was not satisfied. He sought to set a brutal example that shall frighten any other rebellion, future or past birthed, from resisting ever again. Relations with the clans had been strenuous throughout Tallimus's rule, but his actions further alienated the clans from his association. The Aetan prince at the time even refused to marry one of the daughters of Tallimus, further straining what little connection they had at the time. But for this rebellion, he wished to send some sort of message to both his enemies and allies. He rounded up half of the citizens of Sautrobar, tied them to the masts of various vessels, and then sank them. Over a quarter of a million men, women and children met brutal ends in the great lake, and their bodies unrecoverable due to the depth. This atrocity was beyond what any other kingdom could condone. Not even the cruelest would not support his decision. From his past crimes, the clans had warned him that they could not hold ties to a man who knows not the responsibility of rule nor the value of life. And his message did fall upon the ears of the empire, just not the one that Tallimus intended. To Baluer Colton, this message that the Altwin empire should no longer be tolerated is its cruelty. Through their sheer brutality, they had made enemies with the clans.

So now, James Colton, currently the third in line for the throne, has been sent to wage this war on behalf of his father. He was saddened to see such a massive loss of life, and retribution shall come. First, he began liberating princedoms who knew had loose allegiance to the Altwin throne. Instead of throwing his own armies against Tallimus, he shall rely on rebellious groups and recruited them along his way to liberate princedoms one after another. This took little convincing, as it would not take a strong leap in logic to believe that instead of only killing off new princedoms, he shall turn back and kill those he had allied himself with. One by one, princedom after princedom was freed and fought willingly with the empire to defeat a tyranny that they allowed for long enough. Battles were brutal, as the Altwin army is quite known for its brutality on the battlefield as well, willing to thrown man after man at the enemy till they fell. But thanks to brilliant strategies and tactics produced by his second in command, Wilbur Opal and his wife Celia Opal. their involvement in these wars was to make them famous among clan nobility due to their proximity to the prince and their nearly legendary battles. And now, they set their minds to destroy the source of the Altwin poison. Altwin shall be under siege.

James looked upon the tall walls of the enemy he has driven his dagger into. He takes no pleasure in having to wage war, but the liberation of men is a woman from this man, who once been seen as a compatriot among the outlands, was more than worth the effort. They had set up camp just a few miles away from the capital of this empire and were going to assault it in the coming days one way or another. This region of the outlands was fairly mountainous, and the city rested on the top of a tiny mountain that came to a rather flat top, with the palace looking down upon the city itself. Unlike precious sieges, they have refrained from using siege equipment, as the king refuses to evacuate his citizens. this, Wilbur, had guessed, was so that his men would fight against them even harder than before. James agreed. He promised that this would be the last day that this king will be acquainted with injustice.

Tallimus has ordered most of his troops away from the walls instead of focusing on the inner sectors where his castle and accompanying towers laid. He most likely knew that they would not launch a siege with civilians still in danger, so he thought he could spare the protection. This turned out to be a grave mistake on his part, however. Because he was not facing a regular army. The walls had fallen in only twenty minutes. He growled, stroking back his long greying hair as he ordered troops to fall back to the inner sector and secure his throne room to be entrenched there. A scout said that the ground around one sector of the wall suddenly upheaved and crumbled away like a pile of rocks, and a strong wind blowing away men from the walls.

"Pull all the towns guard from their posts to the main keep," Tallimus shouted to whoever was nearby. "By Fates Grace, I will not allow them, my people."

Immediately they began peeling away to give the word to the guards waiting to engage the Empire of Clans in battle. Better that they die defending him than this damned city. He knows they don't care about the citizens, and they have it in their righteous heads that they are liberating them from his rule. A rule he has worked too hard to let go of with any effort whatsoever. He ordered his personal guard and servants to convene on the throne room, and there, they shall stand to defend their state. Though, a sentiment that was not strongly felt by all. Some of his guards stood still for a few moments before following, and others ran away. His structure was being dismantled before it was being confronted. But he did not have the time to order their execution. Hopefully, they will be at least useful and distract the Liontarian prince, maybe even die. Either way, he has at least something to gain. Meanwhile, he sat on his throne. There were about fifty guards surrounding him at the moment, some armed with bows and arrows. He has heard of the might of these knights, but he doubts many are true. Every culture overestimates its heroes.

The door was barricaded with whatever was at hand, tables from the banquet hall, stray wooden beams from construction, and men pressing themselves and bracing for an impending impact. Servants moved aside as men armed with crossbows. Those with swords and shields are drawn at the ready. They heard no commotion, but it was only a matter of time before the assault would begin. The king hates the fact that the secrets of the aura are so harshly restricted in the Empire. His people have yet to know their applications, and due to the nature of mages, they rarely associate themselves with smaller countries like his. He might as well be fighting a rolling boulder with greased hands. He barely knows how to even swing a sword. All this felt too unfair. He was a dog barking at the brightness of the moon, unable to retaliate. He was alone in his thoughts. His brothers and sisters have either been defeated in battle or turned on him. He will not expect support from any other nation, nor what little remained on his territory. This was it. This city, this keep this throne. This crown was all that was left behind from the Altwin empire.

Choom!

The entire room rumbled underneath their feet as the doors rumbled under a heavy impact. One of the beams holding the door in place was crumpled under the wait, and a few more men came to hold the door closed. Hinges ground and tables were snapped like twigs as the next hit came. Some men were thrown on their backs or lost their footing, even. The king stared intently. One might think a terrible monster has waded itself into the castle. But all knew better, and monsters could not hold a kindling to what came for them. More men were thrown back, and this time the wooden frame of the door began to crack in places. There was shouting on the other side, the clanging on metals on shields and war hymns climbing over in the strange language of the clan's old tongue. It was rattling to listen to, like standing naked in a thunderstorm. He flinched; the noise is unbearable. Some of his men let fire through the opening at the screaming men, catching a few but more simply to their place, waving swords through the cracks to attack the people holding the door down. Some arrows were even returned, fired by whatever archer was beyond the doors. But as quickly as it seemed to manifest, it ceased. Men pulled away from the doors, and swords pulled away as the hall became silent. So did the pounding. This moment of levity did not ease their worries; it only heightened. Something was coming.

The king leaned forward intently, the door was barely held by what few iron sidings still standing, but he could see faintly the appearance of a few people coming near. But before he could get a good look at them, the doors were thrust open by a storm of wind that shattered the wood in an instant. Men were flung back from the blow, and others stumbled as debris was strung about. A man jumped into the room, ducking into a shoulder roll to swing a sword about as well. Simultaneously fire and wind were thrown in an arch towards them. Men were tossed aside, and stray arrows deflected or burned away. King Tallimus recoiled at the extreme heat but growled in defiance as he recognized the strange ability. That sword had become a symbol of the Liontarian knights. The user, Wilbur Opal, is the Elemental knight, known for being the most skilled swordsmen among them now. And next came two more warriors, the Prince followed by his own men. His blade was drawn, a broad bastard's sword with an ornate golden guard that radiated with the light already. The woman beside him had long blond hair and traditional armor for knights. She walked in and stomped on the head of the nearest soldier. His scream echoed the halls as the helmet he wore began to crumble under her boot. That must be the warrior princess Lizbeth, a rejected heir to the Hathan throne. He may have expected one of the three, but not all. His men rushed them, but Wilbur simply held out his hand, and a wave of aura washed over them, stumbling back as if they had just hit a wall. He moved between them, using their disorder to dismantle each and every one. James stepped forward, unimpeded.

"Your city is taken Tallimus, surrender your crown now," James shouted at Tallimus, stepping forward, but he looked to Tallimus's men when he said that. With only little hesitation, those who still held blades dropped them onto their feet. James's men marched in with rope and metal cuffs to bind and secure them. Within only a few moments, the throne room had been seized, and Tallimus stands alone staring down James and the army of Liontari.

Tallimus growled at them all. "Fools. You are in debt to my throne and crown. I offered prosperity, yet you set aside your blades. Worthless, all of you. And you. This is my land to rule, prince. My rule! My citizens!"

James did not flinch. He gestured to Lizbeth, who lifted her foot from the man's skull, a bit of blood left on the ground as he shuffled away. She walked directly towards the king. He kept speaking on his might, though this quickly turned from boasting to pleading to his guards or anyone to intervene. His servants sat in silence, and some even looked relieved as Lizbeth strode forward and snatched the crown off of his head. He had basically sunk into his thrown as she did so, only looking back to see his crown handed to James, who cradled it in one arm.

"You no longer have citizens," James said. "For now, they shall become citizens of the empire. Your relics of tyranny no longer hold them, your armies but fleeting whispers of control."

"You . . . you empire dogs," he shouted in defiance, standing upon his throne to address them. "You are brutes who jest against the fists, pretenders to pacifism, while holding onto your barbaric beliefs. I have worked my entire life to prosper my country on pride and vigilance. And you wish to take that from me."

James sighed, handing the crown to Wilbur before folding his hands behind his back. The room seemed to turn still, the sun shining through tall glass walls failing to adjust its position. "Do you object to this new standing, King Tallimus?"

"I object to you, boy," he said. "For what purpose have you in this world. What gives you the right to govern over us? Who has ruled without you? And if you were to disappear now, we shall rule perhaps further. You are a mockery of your own ideas of freedom while claiming that the strong must subjugate themselves to the weak. I'm-"

His words were cut short, just like that. James had drawn his sword and beheaded the man before anyone in the room had time to object. His body stood upright still as his head bounced against the far wall. The look in James's eyes was dead. Everyone recoiled once they realized what had happened. James pushed aside Tallimus's dead body as he looked to whoever was left inside. Officials and servants alike. His bastard swords are still dripping with Tallimus's blood.

His eyes were cold. Wilbur rarely sees him in such a state. It takes a lot to make a man like James angry. As long as he had known him, he has been unearthly laid back and pleasant. He rarely joins battles, but when he does, he is a beast unrivaled on this plane. And Wilbur knows is the one thing James hates the most is the cruelty of man. The empire lives by two rules above all else; the strong protect the weak, and it is the strongest who survive. These two ideals manifested in its rulers. To be the strongest, you have to have every part of your society be strong, from the pillars to the ceiling and roof. All must be supportive and protective of others. Wilbur would agree with Tallimus's curse upon them, and they do impose their beliefs on others. But he also believes them to be the right ones to have. It is not based on suppression, nor the restriction of will, like Tallimus, defaulted to. It was towards peace and prosperity. Wilbur looked into his metal reflection of the crown, seeing the man he had become following such a man. Was he not the same? Had he been three years younger, would he have flinched at such brutality?

James walked back to the center of the room, wiping his blade off of his white cape. "This world should not suffer tyrants, nor do I condone their existence. Those who challenge this notion, I will collect your heads. So if there are any issues there may be had with my words, now is the time."

No one dared to fight back. The servants, those few who were awaiting their capture, looked mystified by this situation.