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[indent][indent][sup]       Three long decades of peace.
One would think that with [b]peace[/b] you would have a period of ubiquitous prosperity. Where people once divided could come together to solve the greater problems shared throughout the land's many regions. The mages could put their heads together to help less bountiful regions with their crops, the engineers and architects could share their grand designs and technological breakthroughs to stave off the need for magic in areas less rich with aura, the wealthy bigots could put aside their petty squabbles amongst themselves and spend their gold on more important problems. But no, [b]peace[/b] simply meant the status quo was not being challenged, and divided people throughout the realm could be comfortable in their division. While deals were often made between the nobles and their territories, the Mage King and his flourishing region Luxu would always remain on the favorable end to the detriment of the others.

       Before those three long decades?
The elderly would remember a different sort of struggle, one where their sons and fathers lined up at the quartermaster to be armed for bloodshed. Once upon a time it was dwarvish iron and steel clashing with Mage Knights at the western borders. Once upon a time the common man without mageblood rose up to challenge the powers that be, only to have the candle's flame snuffed out before it could grow into an inferno that would challenge the sorcerous sovereignty. And now?... Now we were here, thirty years later and any semblance of rebellion was quashed by the deaths of fathers leaving children as orphans. The Luxuns have made certain to keep it that way with their representatives remaining at every keep and quarry upon the continent; the surveillance state kept resolute by the ever growing presence of aura in the lives of even the most common of folk. The only thorn in their side remaining? The dog-blooded savages of the North, the last vestige of free men and women in Tempestua where magic is frowned upon and passing mages shunned by the working folk.

       How long could this last bastion of freedom last?
Who could tell at this point? Kurt Fenris, the Black Wolf of the North kept his relations with the court mage stationed in his castle amicable. While he did serve in the Dwarvish Rebellion against the Mage King, some deal must have been made as the remaining stonebloods in his territory were bound in chains just like everywhere else. He knew how fragile his relations would be with the Luxun territory and so, what else could he do other than lead his people the best he could, whilst also remaining compliant with the mageblood's requests growing more invasive and constricting every year. An upcoming summit of all the region's lords and ladies was scheduled to occur, but just in the nick of time a formidable group of mages from Kala would appear at Stonecrown's doorstep seeking audience with the Lord Fenris. What exactly they wished to speak with him for?.. 

       Only time would tell.[/sup][/indent][/indent]