The cold night had released a chill wind into the castle. The light of the nearby torch had begun to fade. Many of the servants had already retired hours prior.
Still, Casca sat still in his study, his mind consuming him. This was nothing new though. Many sleepless nights he had endured since his ascension to the throne, and this hardly seemed unlike any other.
Yet behind Casca’s eyes unblinking, his thoughts raced on. The different facets of his thoughts wrestling with each other, fighting over possible outcomes, future decisions, past failures, former masters, current ones, the misunderstood desires of his heart and the wishes of his forcibly corrupted soul.
More so , Casca felt the full weight of his dark masters and their power upon his shoulders. It was now that he felt the final vestiges of his former, uncorrupted self cease its long struggle and slip away into the nether that awaited him.
So mired in contemplation was he that even seemingly staring straight ahead at the door, Casca did not see the figure enter the poorly lit room.
It was a familiar voice that finally shook him back into himself.
“You called for me, my Lord?”
Blinking several times, regaining himself, Casca focused his eyes, seeing his Lord Emissary, Trubo Saius, standing before him.
“Yes, Lord Emissary, please sit”, said Casca, clearing his throat and motioning towards the seat on the other side of the small table.
And there, in that moment of transfer and silence, while Trubo drew up the chair, Casca put his sight to the pale shining jewel that adorned the neck of his most trusted servant, feeling a rush of recycled thoughts reenter his mind.
“To think such a small thing could restrain so great an evil”, thought Casca, as he had many times before. But it was not perfect by far, it is true. The magic could falter at times of great stress or through the sheer willpower of this dispossessed monster, but it was enough.
“But a power so grand and a soul so consumed can never be directly controlled or possessed, only kept in check…To the benefit of others.”
Casca smiled, sitting up to face Trubo.
“You have done as I ordered?” asked Casca.
“I have, great King. The warnings have been sent and preparations have begun as according to your directions.”
Casca sensed doubt in Trubo’s voice.
“You have more to say, Lord Emissary?”
Trubo adjusted himself, keeping his head bowed as he spoke.
“My Lord, your recent meeting with Lady Nystad has come to my attention. She says we are not go to war. She says you will not commit the Army. And I am hardly anyone to question your plans sire, yet here we stand at the precipice of war and you turn back so suddenly? This –”
Holding forward his palm and interrupting Trubo, Casca stood up slowly but said nothing at first. He turned and calmly walked over to the sole window in the room, his small, jeweled crown glinting slightly in the weak moonlight as he gazed into the moat below.
“The Captain is correct, Lord Emissary. The War of Shadows taxed us all to our unbreakable limits. Both the people and myself are loathe to force our soldiers to do battle again so soon, much less against our own people”, said Casca.
Trubo stood up swiftly, his chair scraping against the stone floor, placing his palms on the table. Trubo’s necklace gem grew brighter as the magic strained.
“But my liege! Better that we considered this before resorting to open war! If we hesitate now, if we show any weakness, those foul vultures will consume our fair kingdom! You offered them peace, stability, and freedom under your benevolent rule! Rife with their ill begotten pride they haughtily chose the sword, as I predicted!”
Casca could feel the anger in Trubo’s voice but felt his Lord Emissary quickly regain himself and the magic reassert control.
“A thousand apologies, great King. There is still the side of me that questions your plans and doubts your wisdom, but it is silent now, and soon it shall forever be,” Trubo said in a lower voice as he placed himself next to the King, kneeling in subservience.
Turning his eyes to Trubo, Casca smiled once again, his thoughts no longer at war with one another. A red gleam came to his eyes.
“The Army will not commit to the war, Lord Emissary. But the treasury will.”
Event Location: The Black Gates at the rebel locations
When: Throughout the coming weeks
1) There will be a rune book locked down with the locations to the black gates at West Britain Bank roof
2) If any of the rebel kingdoms want to opt out of it then you simply need to surrender
3) There might be clues on the invading forces from time to time!