“Most wars in history ended well before one side was completely eradicated. Most commonly, wars ended on the negotiations table, where the warring sides reached a compromise that both parties found acceptable and ceased hostilities on mutual agreement. Unless deeply ingrained hatred or other forms of blood debt was involved, it was rare for wars to end in eradication.” - From “History of Warfare, Past to Present”, by Manuela Elioch, circa 379 FP.

“Hahaha- Apologies- Ahahahah- Do you think we can now renegotiate what we talked about before, Your Grace?” said Nestor as he tried his best to restrain his laughter, something he only managed with great difficulty, even wheezing a couple times as he laughed so much he couldn’t take a breath. Griselda even came over and gently massaged his back to help him regain his bearing.

Duke Orsla Banitu returned no answer as he clearly still seethed at the sight before him, what his son had done with the city, and even covered his face with both hands as his old frame trembled. Reinhardt thought that if they weren’t on open ground with nothing standing in the vicinity, the old Duke might have looked for something to bang his head on already.

“You win, young Nunez. I have nothing left to say,” said the old Duke at last, his voice full of bitter disappointment as he looked towards the city he had devoted his entire life towards. A City that his foolish son might have just thrown away – perhaps not in the literal sense, but in the metaphorical sense for certain – by his idiotic decision making.

Kolitschei’s source of strength, what made them one of the strongest of the Duchies in Posuin, had been the cordial relationship between the masters and their slaves. It was a relationship of trust and ownership that had been groomed for countless generations, for it was the slaves that provided the labor that allowed their masters to enjoy life they way they did.

In exchange for the labor and obedience, the masters were responsible for the safety of the region, and to ensure that those beneath them received proper care. Kolitschei was an odd place which instituted slavery, yet at the same time looked out for the rights of their slaves. In most circumstances, people who abused their slaves would be punished accordingly, a notion unimagineable in other slave-owning places.

That relationship of trust between the owners and the owned had been the foundation of Kolitschei over the ages, and his stupid son had just betrayed that most sacred trust.

Duke Banitu always knew that his eldest son was an ambitious fellow, but he had shown no signs of incompetence over the years, and had felt secure naming him as his heir. He had not expected that the first time his son was put to the test under heavy pressure, he folded immediately and did the most foolish thing possible.

He saw it in the eyes of the tens of thousands of slaves forced out and left to die. The look of reverence and obedience they used to have had been replaced by a look of disbelief at the betrayal in most. In some others, even that disbelief had morphed into anger and disgust – rightfully so, at that – as the slaves understood what had just been done to them.

The old Duke knew that what happened in Kolitschei could easily lead to civil unrest throughout the entire Duchy unless he took drastic measures, and it took his old but still keen mind mere moments to decide the course of action he should take under the circumstances. His admission of defeat to Nestor, a youth young enough to be his grandchild, was the start of it.

“Release me, my knights, and all the freemen amongst those you had taken captive, and I will swear that oath to never trespass your grounds with hostile intent for a generation,” said the old Duke in a dejected tone of voice as he admitted his defeat further. “The slaves… including those outside the city… you may take with you and do as you wished with them.”

“You are certain that you can regain your position, then?” asked Nestor with a slightly mocking smile at the old duke. The young noble knew he was in a position of power in the negotiations, and besides, the old Duke’s acquiescence meant that he would gain precisely what he desired out of this conflict. “Your son has the city and at least ten to fifteen thousand troops in there, as far as I can tell.”

“Within the year,” said the old Duke with a scoff. “Given the folly he had already committed, I doubt it would take me longer than that to remove him from the seat. We will pay the war reparations as you demanded the year after I returned to power. Is that acceptable?”

“Acceptable enough,” replied Nestor as he offered his hand to the old Duke for a handshake. Sure, they would sign all the proper documents and whatnot afterwards to finalize and formalize the deal they struck, but both knew that the matter was pretty much concluded. Nestor even sent orders to the men left behind to start sorting the captured slave soldiers from the freemen.

Nestor’s purpose in the invasion of Kolitschei was twofold. One was to remove the neighboring Duchy as a threat, which the oath from the Duke had pretty much taken care of. The other was to steal some people from their far more populous neighbor.

Algenverr was one of the largest Duchies in Posuin by land area, but it was also sparsely populated. Much of Algenverr was uninhabited, due to the region’s undesirable reputation of not only bordering the fetid marshlands, but also due to the frequent beast tides they had to deal with.

As such, when the duke’s son had ejected all the slaves from Kolitschei City to further lengthen the time they could stretch their food supplies over under a siege, he had also inadvertently gifted Nestor with tens of thousands of potential willing immigrants who were used to hard work.

Just the exact thing Nestor wanted.