Royal Household, Lorras
Principality of Molitas
2nd day of the 1st month of Spring 1460
Sitting on the pleasant looking veranda in the afternoon warmth looking out across the wide sweeping green lawn before him Consul Danton sipped more wine from the flute resting on the table before him. Prince Hamilton across the table was noticeably annoyed as the Consul from the Dominion continued to seem to waste his time. "These negotiations seem to be going nowhere, again consul. Perhaps you would like to retire and we can begin discussion fresh, again. Some other day."
Consul Danton smirked and sipped from his wine again before responding, "The world is changing and yet you are all still stuck in the past. We are giving you a chance to join the Dominion and the future here. Your continued refusal is nothing short of insulting to the greatness the Dominion represents and what you could become. I am sure you recall what happens when insults fly before us."
It was the prince's turn to smirk now, "Yes I do, you attempt to invade over some slight as a pretense to your own ambitions. Then the horse lords descend from the north straining your entire nation so much that you are forced to call for a truce and you gain nothing from us."
"That is the past prince, things are changing. They are changing for the better, for us anyway. You will see this change sweep across the world soon as you stay here hidebound."
The prince sat up now from the small table, "I think we are done here. i will have you escorted from the premises by guards to ensure you... safety."
The consul only smirked as he drained his glass and stood up, "Have a pleasant day prince, I expect we will be talking again soon." He could still recall the message he had received by courier earlier that day dictating he was to give peace one last chance. The Dread Guard were mobilizing and the 2nd fleet was heading north while the 3rd and 4th were coming west. The horse lords were to soon be a thing of the past and would pave the way to a glorious new future for the Dominion.
Dread Guard Marshaling Camp
North of The Grey Fields
2nd day of the 1st month of Spring, 1460
The 14th infantry regiment of the Dread Guard were arrayed in all their glory as Lord Marshal Fulbrik stood before the all in a field uniform his salt and pepper hair neatly trimmed, his mustache precisely cut, and he had the physical power of a far younger man . The sergeants were checking down the line. They were the second to last regiment to be checked. Soon the entire Dread Guard would be deemed combat ready, already the five armored regiments and thirteen of the infantry regiments were marshaled and ready awaiting only the order to move. 100,000 men had been prepared for this incursion. The 2nd fleet was inbound and would be there in a few days to support them as well with air power the horse lords lacked.
Finally the sergeants one by one finished inspecting their lines and issued forth a salute to the Lord Marshal. Finally the last one finished and saluted as well. 5,000 of the best trained men in the entire Dominion armed forces were arrayed before him and despite seeing it thirteen times so far that day he still swelled with pride. The nearly 40 year old man bellowed out commands to them his powerful that of a man nearly half his age, "Regiment, present arms!" As one they brought theirs rifles up in front of them, "Shoulder Arms!" They brought the rifles to their right shoulder in clean precise motions, "Left face!" with a click of heels they turned as one to the left, "MARCH!" and so 5,000 men began their advance from the impromptu parade grounds towards the proper mustering area. The horse lords had humiliated them and resisted them for far too long, but they had never faced the might of an army equipped like this.