Tyrhallan ever the obedient son and knight had set out as soon as the news of unrest reached his ears. 
His uncle had burst into the estate with as much haste as that old leg of his could muster.
The old man had long since retired, but still held an important post at court. Close to the king to offer counsel, when asked and instructed to be of service as an honour guard and instructor to the queen. It was a position of honour, without actually seeing any battle, but offering the queen his knowledge on matters. Which wasn’t all that often.
So it came to pass that his ‘friendship’ with the royal Spymaster developed through their love of Ur. A game that required; risk, luck and strategy. It was through this friendship he heard of the new developments on the border. During a game, which he had been winning, the Spymaster calmly had informed him of the new situation.
So it was that his uncle gave up his victory and his winnings, hurrying down to the Venray estate.  To warn his brother’s family of what was about to come. 

[i]Prepare. 
The Empire is on the move.
Coming to crush the resistance by conquering Belisio and force them to their knees.[/i] 

[i]War marches ahead to dine on the Lionhearted[/i]

Or so the rumours and whispers of the spies had spoken. 
The Spymaster’s spies had also reported the upcoming stream of refugees fleeing from the incoming wheels of war. If they would be overtaken, they would get caught up in the middle of all of this. 
The poor souls would be stuck between two terrible forces. 
They would probably be the first true victims to be fed to the ever hungry beast called War.  

‘The machine that would grind all into dust and leave behind nothing but a barren wasteland, as fields are painted red as the call of the carrion cuts through the deafening silence...’ Or so the scholars quoted Folken, one of their philosophers of old.

And they wouln’t be wrong, but sometimes war was inevitable. 
Tyrhallan had seen battle before, though he did not doubt that those were but a taste of what the Empire was capable of. 
He remembered his Uncle's stories, telling him of the strength of the Vaimese Empire and the might of their mages. 
He has spoken of the fall of Rhevendahl a small kingdom bordering their Empire, how they had quite literally smote the capital into a pile of ash and dust.
A thousand years of peaceful coexistence torn asunder for the hungry expansion drift of the Empire. 
Renamed, their own history and lore was ripped from the pages, droned out until only the words of the Empire remained. 
It was a fate that would befall all those who failed to resist the Empire.
Tyrhallan had questioned his Uncle on the truth of these matters. 
Surely not all in the Empire were so keen on the destruction of history and knowledge? 
He remembered his Uncle laughing at him. Telling him that true conquerors know that in order to conquer completely, you need to wipe out more than just a defending army. You need to erase all the things that binds those that resist together.
One thought, One ruler, One Empire. Create separation and stifle the opposition, then indoctrinate.
Now the soldiers of Rhevendahl, belong to the most fearsome, most terrifying forces of the Empire.

Soon enough his mettle would be tested once more, in the defence of hearth and home. As the last troops were boarding the airships or calmly awaiting orders Tyrhallan noticed the lone figure off to the side.
He instantly recognized him as 'Upstart Dalmer'. 
At least that was the name he had called him the first time they met. 
He had rocked quite a few boats with his mercurial behaviour. 
By the Gods, the boy was a talented fighter, but his rebellious nature would cost him one day. 
Tyrhallan moved over towards him watching him hone his blade.
"I believe you sharpened your fang enough, Spider." He said striking up a conversation. 
"Of all the upstarts they had to stuck me with...they gave me you." 
A smile curled around his lips as his stern gaze softened and connected with the younger man.
"They must be desperate indeed. So tell me, who did you annoy?" He asked cocking an eyebrow.