[center][h3]Premonition of the four kings[/h3][i](You're free to only read those sections that are relevant to you.)[/i][/center] [hr] [hider=King of Chlotaringen] [u]At the feet of the Rudines, East of Rudinberg[/u] Lion banners descend from the northern horizon. Companies of warriors and horses, helms and hauberks, swords, shields, lances and axes. Cauroman’s army arrives at the feet of the Rudine mountains, setting up the great camp of the Chlotar warhost. From all corners of Visandza these warriors have assembled and answered the call to battle of the Chlotar King. The Great War against the Lampert tyrant Dalgiserius is at hand… Once the Chlotars have hold of the Millennium Horn, there will be no stopping them. Cauroman draws forth his holy sword, Halogan, and points it skyward beyond the mountaintops, over which the Lampertei sky hangs. [i]‘’Soon.’’[/i] The sunlight reflects on the blade, revealing the runes that were etched into it during his stay in Udos a year ago. Out of some fleeting fancy perhaps, the Chlotar King feels compelled by a mouthless call to inspect the runes, and he holds the blade before his eyes. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/uU5QDlA.png[/img][/center] A young woman in a white shroud appears in the reflection behind the runes, amid antique weatherworn columns of bygone ages, and the legendary golden domes of Udos shimmering behind her. Cauroman is perplexed by the mirror image of the holy city, taken aback that Halogan is a ‘holy sword’ for a reason. [i]‘’Eulalie…’’[/i] The mirage-maiden opens her mouth, and words are audible as muffled ringing from the reflection on the blade. [i]‘’Noble Cauroman… The Hierophant has revealed to her inner circle insight that has come to my ears... that the city of my ancestors is on the brink of collapse.’’[/i] Cauroman was smiling from seeing her, but observing that Eulalie means only to speak business, his lips sag and his expression stiffens as he resumes back to his usual somber demeanor. [i]‘’What do you mean? Tautom is falling? That can’t be true. I have heard no news since sending Vierland and my Paladin off to commence the investment on the city.’’[/i] [i]‘’The Hierophant has a plethora of ears, and is fast brought to speed to the happenings in the world, before anyone else is. Your Chlotars overthrew the Tautans with great slaughter, and smiting the fugitives, pursued them as far as the King's Palace. Winds of change are coming fast and faster upon Visandza..’’[/i] The Chlotar King is uncertain what to make of this news. Could Vetericus have really breached the famous double-walls of Tautom somehow? Unlikely… but possible. Cauroman is keenly aware of the Baltavigoc’s aggressive temperament… Is it wise to leave the city to his mercy? [i]‘’Great slaughter… Perhaps I need to step in, and bid Vetericus show merc—‘’[/i] [i]‘’I understand your concerns, my King, and shameful as it is, these wicked deeds must come to pass.’[/i]’ The King sighs, and switching the subject, inquires to the maiden: [i]‘’How is Udos?’’[/i] [i]‘’Unassailed as of yet by the material threat posed by the Lamperts… yet the signs are there. Dalgiserius prepares his attack… The Final attack… all his thought and mind is bent on it. O my King… Please come soon, for when the city falls – our God will be forever a maimed one. All the Visandzan lands will be covered in shadow.’’[/i] Cauroman places a hand to his heart as a solemn salute. [i]‘’Eulalie, you know that I'd die before I would allow such. Stand fast, be strong, and I swear you my oath shall hold true: the Lampert King shall fall by a Chlotar Blade.’’[/i] A pious boost of conviction enters Cauroman’s voice. [i]‘’Over the last months, my court has been bracing to bring the fight to Lampertei. Paladin Einhard, and my brother’s Paladin Autchar, went into the Rudines to uncover the Millennium Horn.’’[/i] For a moment she is quiet, and the earlier resolution of the maiden is made to waver by a twinge of doubt. [i]‘’The Fate of Udos – of all Visandza -- hinging on the Godspeed of two men… And… Your brother--’’[/i] The King raises his voice, not letting her finish that sentence. [i]‘’I will make everything right. It is too late now – too late for regrets. I only hope I have not made a fatal mistake.’’[/i] [i]‘’…You are right, my King. There is no going back. So be not heavy hearted; Dagobert’s sacrifice will not be for nothing. And remember; our world will be irreversibly changed from the deeds you and yours are about to accomplish…’’ [/i] The priestesses’ voice fades out. [i]‘’We will speak again, I will keep you informed of the going-ons in the world to the best of my ability. For some of these things I tell you, without the Hierophant’s permission.’’[/i] [i]‘’Eulalie, when next we talk I had hoped we could speak more about... Us.’’[/i] Cauroman wants to tell her that he loves her, but she probably already knows. Her presence had already departed the reflection on the holy sword. [hr] [/hider] [hider=King of Lampertei] [u]Nethermost Hall of Skadan Castle[/u] [i]‘’You wail at the mere sight of the pup-king’s forces, you weak livered runt. The snows of last winter yet fill each of the great passes, in addition to each is one of my outposts. Carlovech’s pup, and the rest of his lapdogs, will walk into Lampert Death if he is foolhardy enough to make the trek.’’[/i] [i]‘’Surely so, my great King.’’[/i] A Gastald officer from the marchlands stammers with quick response. [i]...However, the enemy king and his armies are already upon Lampertei's border, more numerous than ever before. We on the frontier find this cause for alarm. We do not know if – that is to say, the men are—‘’[/i] [i]‘’Silence. There is no risk. I have myself overseen the mountain divisions up in the Rudine strongholds. They have already intercepted and beheaded the Chlotar reconnaissance party, putting the pup’s threat to a decisive halt. No man, and no intervention of their precious God can topple the mountains! And just as I return from the north, already you dare chafe me over this?!’’[/i] Dalgiserius spews the last words with a hiss of barely contained fury, his face red with anger. [i]''Begone!'' [/i] He screams out, and smites his scepter against the floor. [i]''My apologies, mighty King. I... You will not hear of me again...''[/i] The marchland officer bows swiftly, and rushes out of the hall. Dalgiserius is alone in the hall, sitting on his throne. His arm placed against the throne's armrest, as he places his weary face on a fist. Years of excessive warring, violence, yelling and cursing are taking its toll on the aging king, vigorous as he is. The summer days of youth have long past. Then from the shadows, he hears sudden footsteps intruding on his domain. [i]‘’Runt, I ordered you be away. Disappear, lest I personally strike your head off!’’[/i] [i]‘’Father… it is me.’’[/i] From out the dark appears the Princess, herself covered in long dark raiments and glistering jewelries. [i]‘’Hrm. Dalgiserata. My one and only… Where is the girl- your worthless sister?’’[/i] [i]‘’Antonia is gone, father. Long gone.’’[/i] [i]‘’Is she now… So she is.’’[/i] The King proclaims with a low gruff. His daughter’s presence has a calming effect on him. Each Divine splinter has such abilities, and that of the Lampert princess stands out from that of her father. As she approached, his eyelids become heavy, and Dalgiserius is overcome with even greater weariness. He proceeds to dose off into a slumber, and lucid dreams, or visions? come into his mind. He mumbles something. [i]‘’I gazed upon armies in silver. Clashing with beasts from the sky...’’[/i] The princess moves in closer to overhear the words of her father. [i]‘’With beasts from the skies? Are the Chlotars going to fly over the mountains?’’[/i] She asks. [i]‘’No. I tell you all; it is God himself who will descend from the sky, seeking to destroy us all.’’[/i] [i]‘’I know father, God desires the downfall of the Lampert people.’’[/i] [i]‘’[b]All…[/b]’’[/i] Dalgiserius only says, before finally drifting into a deep sleep. [hr] [/hider] [hider=King of Baltia] [u]Gardens of the Balti Palace[/u] As Orso braces for the final attack, two members of the Tautan nobility sit in the Palace’s orchard enclosure by a garden fountain. A woman – Madam Kalisto, mother of the late-Theodonus and one of the King’s many wives – and Doux Ephraim, a dark complexioned, bearded and weathered man of the sea that has spent much time navigating the Sea of Tears, as far east as the shores of Ostropathia. [i]‘’M’lady.’’[/i] Ephraim says to madam Kalisto as he places a fist to his breast. [i]‘’Ah. You are the representative of Belisar Aetius? A bit late for the Syromean faction to rear its ugly snout… It’s hopeless now. No amount of outside reinforcements could lift this siege from the jaws of the abyss.’’[/i] [i]‘’Indeed, I’ve received word from Belisar, and he has affirmed Tautom is a lost cause. What we need to combine our efforts on now, is…’’[/i] His line of thought is disrupted by the cheery frolicking of nearby children. Kalisto and Ephraim look up, and see many of Orso’s princely spawn playing and splashing one another other in the fountain. They look so happy, so blissfully unaware of the impending peril that is soon upon them. It must be Orso’s drugged blood that pumps through their little hearts to make them so spirited. [i]‘’…Odovakre’s dynasty?’’[/i] Kalisto finishes Ephraim’s sentence, and the Syromean doux nods and speaks forebodingly: [i]‘’Forget Tautom. The inevitable fall of this cursed city is the last of our concerns. There is so much more at stake here.’’[/i] Kalisto closes her mouth, default pouting her lips as she gives the Doux a puzzled look. He elaborates: [i]‘’Once they get their clutches on the Royal Family, those unfeeling and mindless savages know not what they will bring upon themselves, were they to make such a sudden shift in God’s state.’’[/i] Kalisto interrupts with a sigh, betraying her cynicism. ‘’Why do you suddenly care about saving the little doves? Don’t pretend you have standards now, Ephraim, not after what you’ve done in the past. Besides; your allegiance was never to the Baltian royal family.’’ [i]‘’Indeed. My allegiance is to the [b]WORLD[/b]. For that is the scope of all that is at stake if this calamity is not averted.’’ [/i] [i]‘’The whole world? Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic. Surely this is not necessary, even if a few royals were to perish, such has happened before in last decade’s string of assassinations. The royal house is a big family! Besides… Cauroman wouldn’t kill Children, would he?’’[/i] Ephraim looks again at the royal children playing nearby with a furrowing brow of concern appearing on his face, and he lowers his voice to ensure they not overhear. [i]‘’Cauroman… perhaps not. But the Chlotar king is not the one leading this attack. Have you seen those Baltian renegades? Particularly that man with the facepaint and the long hair leading them? ...Gives me the creeps. The Baltavigocs are charming, untruthful, bloodthirsty and unreliable wildcards. Do you really think they’ll show mercy, once they get inside the Palace?’’[/i] [i]‘’…Point seceded. So you tell me, dear Ephraim, how do you plan to evacuate so many misfortunate souls out of a besieged and encircled city?’’[/i] Ephraim’s frown fades, and his lips curve to a sly smile. [i]‘’The same way my faction has always smuggled Syromean informants into Tautom, madam Kalisto…’’[/i] [hr] [/hider] [hider=King of Eodaland] [u]Royal Capital of Cantaware[/u] Cantaware is afire in religious jubilee. King Badastan had declared this day, the day of ancestral rodent reverence, in spirit of the king’s divine revelation that man descends of rodents, and must therefore return and be reconnected to their primal squirrel nature. Man’s gradual transformation from squirrel to simian is a radical new superstition which the King dubbed ‘evolution’. It is yet more unfounded theology that no sane person would otherwise believe, if not for the King’s nigh brainwashing charisma. Rows and rows of Eodaens from all corners of the island Kingdom have come to the royal capital, to pay homage to the King and his new religion. Each of them with as much acorns as their arms and oxen could carry. Many a cart and wagon of acorns have been pulled through mud, wind and rain now by beasts of burden. At Cantaware’s central plaza, already mounds of acorns were heaped before a grand wooden statue of Xeaxaenot, the Golden Squirrel Demon. The statue resembles as you may guess, a very large squirrel with the antlers of a reindeer attached to its head, slathered in gold paint. It stretches out human hands on which the deity holds a pair of scales. A reminder that the ancestral squirrel weighs and judges the value of their descendant’s souls. As the common folk continue on their rites outside of the royal hall, Badastan hosts earls, chieftains and such leaders from all over Eodaland and abroad around his willow table. Even Poppo is there, King of the small continental Kingdom of Radboudy directly to Eodaland’s south. The red bushy-bearded and stout Radboudic King Poppo raises his tankard of mead with laughter, and is the first to hail his colleague King. [i]‘’Ho there, good King Badastan, I must say, I was skeptical at first. But now being in your presence here, and seeing the prosperous effect it has had on your subjects, I have come to see you’ve made a convincing case. God is dying, whereas Xeaxaenot is more alive than ever. Demon-squirrel worship is the world’s fastest growing religion!’’[/i] [i]‘’That it is, that it is!’’[/i] Badastan says, slapping his belly and chuckling heartily as he lifts his own tankard of ale in solidarity with Poppo. Having slurped merrily from his tankard of honey and grain, Poppo’s cheeks blaze pinkish with drunken jubilation. [i]‘’T’is a shame I could not bring my son and heir Aldgillis to see the glory of this acorn hoard! I think it’s that woman, Sunniva’s fault. The Eodaen princess has possession of his ear -- and seems irrationally hostile towards your most righteous religion.’’[/i] He says, taking in another gulp from the tankard, before belching. [i]‘’Women!’’[/i] [i]‘’Women? Acting hysterically? What else is new, good King Poppo? Ho-ho-ho!’’[/i] Badastan's influence has become absolute in the Eodaen Kingdom, and by it, the spirit of God has been all out driven. The red squirrel Lamble on Badastan’s shoulder nods in approvement, she is the King’s spiritual guide. [/hider]