After several long days of hard riding, Rathos and his entourage of elites finally see the walls of Skalag. The towering walls are made of hewn stone, reinforced with metal and construction skills. They’re impressive by the scale of the South, but compared to the fortifications of the North, the walls are barely adequate. Rathos, relaxing in his throne on his cart, ponders the geographical nature of wealth inequality.

After several more minutes of riding, the city comes into clearer view, and Rathos raises a hand, “Quarter March.”

His army slows to a fourth of their speed, giving the [General] a moment to assess the surprising state of the city.

The city of Skalag lies open and undefended. The gates are wide open and no [Archers] can be seen anywhere on the walls. Only a handful of [Guards] stand at the gates, nervously watching his army but doing nothing else.

The [General] grimaces. He’d expected a city in lockdown. He’d expected a formidable defense that he’d struggle to overwhelm quickly. Instead, it seems as though the city is welcoming him in.

He wonders if this is some form of trap, but that thought disappears as fast as it had come. If there was a trap, several of his skills would warn him of it. For all intents and purposes, the city is expecting, if not welcoming his arrival.

Regardless, Rathos doesn't let his guard down. Skills can be fooled. He knows. He’s fooled them. He marches his army towards the city's entrance.

While his army marches, he keeps his eyes out for threats… but nothing happens. Eventually his army arrives at the entrance and, to his surprise, the [Guards], specifically [Bandit Guards], move out of the way and wave his army inside.

The inside of the city is, or was, a battlefield. Burnt out shops, destroyed barricades, blood stains, and piles of corpses pepper the streets. The barracks were burned down and debris is still being gathered into piles for disposal. Rathos orders a [Scout] to check the corpses and is not surprised when the [Scouts] report that the corpses are mostly [Guards]. The former defenders of Skalag, [Rathos] presumes.

Now, the new defenders are [Bandit Guards], all of which give him and his entourage a great deal of nervous distance.

As he travels through the city, towards the castle, he notes that the civilian population is alive and well, albeit indoors. He’d expected some anarchy and looting, what with [Bandits] serving as [Guards], but it seems that that isn’t the case.

As they silently travel deeper and deeper towards the central castle, the monotony of silence is broken by Dragkenoss. “[General], what do you make of this?”

“I believe [Bandit Warlord] Dominus has attacked and taken over this city with inside assistance.” Rathos says.

“Are you sure? Couldn’t it have been someone else?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “The city's gates are undamaged, so there was no siege. The [Bandits] entered into the city without contest and overwhelmed the defenders with greater numbers. Considering the number of [Guard] corpses and lack of [Bandit] or civilian corpses, the [Bandits] must have outnumbered the city defense several times over. That many [Bandits] working together is not normal, nor is their discipline. Dominus is the only [Warlord] in the region with the classes, levels, and sense to execute this sort of plan,” Rathos explains.

When he reaches the castle, he finds another batch of corpses, more signs of combat, and more [Bandits] moving out of his way. Clearly, his arrival was expected.

Rathos orders Dragkenoss to stop the cart before the castle’s entrance and dismounts.He surrounds himself with Thorous, Darrow, Aldonis, and Orlan. Everyone else is ordered to create a perimeter around the castle and await further orders.

Rathos enters the castle, wherein a [Bandit Captain] nervously leads Rathos to the throne room.

__________________________________________________________________

Dominus has lived a life of strife and struggle ever since his half-brother ordered his mother’s death and then his own. Henceforth tried to kill him, to remove anyone who could ever have a right to the throne.

Grimly enough, those actions put Dominus on a path of vengeance. Dominus still remembers his mother’s death. He remembers her smiling face as she poisoned him with a paralytic and hid him under the floorboards. He remembers watching, helplessly, imobile, between the floorboards as [Knights] beat his mother and bound her. He remembers her blood that dripped through the cracks, that he couldn’t wipe away. He remembers crawling out of the farmhouse as soon as he could move and sneaking into Skalag. He remembers watching his mother burn at the stake. He can still hear her screams in every silence.

His memories are two decades old… but he relives them every night.

Now, he holds his dead brother's severed head in his hand. Henceforth’s head, so similar to his own. He stares at it, looking at the expression of extreme pain, and only feels empty. He’s got his vengeance. The man who ordered his mother’s death is dead… but that doesn't make him happy. His mother is still dead, and nothing can ever change that.

Dominus sighs as he hears the clack of boots outside the throne room. He places the severed head on a stand near the throne and turns it to face the room's entrance. He leans forward and grabs his Broadsword and stabs it into the wooden floorboards in front of him. His [Bandit Captains] and [Bandit Lieutenants] perk up and take their own stances. They puff up their chests, unsheathe their weapons, and strike menacing poses.

Off to one side, the centaur named Arron smirks in amusement. Dominus ignores horse. Over the years, he’s learned that power speaks louder than words, specifically martial power. The stronger and more dangerous you look, the easier time you’ll have at dealing with others. Time and time again Dominus has intimidated rival bandits into standing down and joining his cause because they were afraid to fight him.

The doors to the throne room are pushed open by his [Bandit Captain], who looks outright terrified.

Following him, an armored demon of black and red strolls across the threshold, wreathed in lightning. Red lightning dances throughout the man's armored body, eventually traveling downward and burning the floorboards at his feet. A cape of bloody mist flutters from his shoulders, the faces of tormented souls appear from the miasma, forming, silently screaming, and dissipating. Dominus holds a dead man’s head, the man before him wears a bloody cape of souls.

Four armored lizard-human monsters silently follow him. They reek of experience and violence, similar to his own men. Though, as Dominus glances at his men, it is clear their confidence had wavered significantly while Arron’s smirk had grown larger.

Hiding his grimace, Dominous releases his aura and starts the conversation, “So, you are the mighty [General] Rathos, the famed Demon of the South.” he glances at Arron, “I’ve been expecting you.”

The [General’s] head tilts slightly to the centaur before returning to Dominous. A silence descends in the throne room, a dreadful silence that lasts for seconds but feels much longer.

Then the [General’s] aura surges from his body, encompassing not just the throne room, but the castle in its entirety.

“I know-,”

the voice comes out deep, guttural, clear, and most importantly, powerful.

“-now surrender.”

A chill runs down his spine as he stares at the glowing helmeted eyes. Fear and anger war within him, followed by a deep helping of adrenaline. His hand tightens around the hilt of his sword.

“I refuse,” Dominos says, “I lost many bandits when I invaded this city. They put their lives on the line for me because I promised them riches and a good life. Surrendering would go against my words.”

Dominous points at Arron smirking in the corner, “your horse here said that we can come to a deal that doesn't involve my surrender.”

“I do not deal with [Bandits].” Rathos replies.

Dominous smirks, feeling a bit more confident now, “[Bandits] are just a class that can be controlled by strong leadership. I’m sure you’ve seen my [Bandits] treating the city with respect?”

Rathos tilts his head, which creates a bolt of lightning from his neck down to the charred floor. “Do you think you have any right to ask for demands?”

“I do. I doubt I can defeat your superior army with my [Bandits], but I can make it so that you would have to kill every [Bandit] in the city before you can take over it. I’m sure a [General] of your standing wouldn’t wish to lose a portion of his army to deal with me.”

Rathos folds his arms, sending electricity from the joints down to the scorched and blackened wood. “Fighting your [Bandits] would be wasteful… What do you want?”

Dominous releases a hidden breath. He can already feel his heartbeat slow a bit as it seems like a confrontation may not happen.

“I wish to be the [King] of Skalag, and have my city and all my land become a vassal state of your empire.”

Rathos shifts his head to Arron, who gives him a thumbs up. An illusionary thumbs up.

“Your proposal is accepted.”

Dominous frowns at the [Generals] words. Normally, he’d expected more verbal intercourse, or counter demands. This seems too easy.

“Why should I trust your words?” he asks.

Rathos shakes his head as though he is disappointed.

“Aldonis.”

Dominous blinks for a fraction of a second, and then when he opens his eyes, he finds the tip of a sword a centimeter from his throat. The lizard man stares at him boredly, as though traveling ten meters in the time it takes him to blink is a childish affair.

“[Bandit Warlord] Dominus,” Rathos begins, his words echoing in the minds of all those present, “You misunderstand me. Killing you and yours is not a waste of lives, it is a waste of my time. None of my soldiers would gain even the tiniest iota of experience by exterminating your pathetic [Bandit] horde.”

The [General] pauses, his cape swishes ominously with those horrid faces.

“You have three choices. Either you surrender unconditionally, you accept my words as genuine, or Aldonis here kills you, the elites around you, and then the rest of my army wastes several hours slaughtering your bandits and disposing of their corpses.”

Rathos strengthens his aura, expanding its reach from the castle to the entirety of the city and every individual present.

“Now choose wisely.”