Herrodian War

The Kingdom of Rhodizephrys, a land of high mountains and rolling steppes, which lies to the South and West of Benselot, had come to a boiling point. Technologically, they lacked much of the refinement of their eastern neighbors, but this savage nature was just the right ingredient to begin chaos. Merrodan united the great trade cities of the Western coastlands with the nomadic horse-warriors of the steppes to create the Kingdom of Rhodizephrys, the Westhome. After forging a nation from this mixture of cultures, Merrodan turned to conquests beyond the borders of his mountainous homeland. The council that had once rules became but an advisory board for Merrodan as he expanded his borders. With the might of the west behind him, he invaded the Southern Desert, subjugating the many tribes who tamed monstrous beasts in those strange lands. One group of tribes living in the shadow of enormous sand-tortoises, which provide acres of mobile protection from the deadly desert sun. After Merrodan brought these peoples under his rule, the nations and city-states of the surrounding area trembled in fear. Appealing to the Isulstad Consilium and the few Kingdoms of any considerable power, they sought protection from what they saw as an imminent threat. Delegations were sent to Merrodan requesting his presence in Isulstad, the Eyes of Justice wished to see this descendant of Anaxaneas, to judge whether he be worthy to rule so much of the land. Merrodan accepted, believing himself divinely directed to conquer and rule. Leaving his sons Herrodan and Hexolian in charge of his armies and his daughter Miskri to rule the homelands, he travelled to Isulstad with a small escort. Upon Merrodan’s arrival the city flew into a riotous festival, the people coming out in droves to see this hero of the current age, this titan among men. And tower, he did, standing almost six and a half feet tall, even the long-limbed Langenbergs could not look down upon him. The atmosphere, though festive, was tense, all waiting to see what would come of this confrontation between mortal mans’ finest and the hand of the Gods. The Eyes of Justice, a group of ancient priests, who are said to have lives eternal, are the only men still able to commune with the Gods since the attack of Typhoon, when the rift between the Gods and their Children was made. And they would be who Merrodan must prove himself worthy to. Whatever happened between Merrodan and the priests is not known, only that the Altar of Justice was broken to pieces by the time he left, and The Eyes of Justice would not speak of what occurred, other than that he was a blasphemer and a heretic, who must be dealt with. With heavy, determined strides Merrodan exited the temple grounds and descended the mountain, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He did not stray from his purpose, heading straight for his ships. The crowds cheered him, nobles begged for his attendance at their feast, but he ignored them all. As quickly as he had come, he was gone again, leaving the city empty, the flash of future glory gone. The crowds of recently jubilant people now aimlessly wandered the streets as the news spread of the Eyes of Justice rejection of this god among men. He was not to be accepted; he was not to rise to prominence within the Kingdoms; he would be a pariah, to be shunned by all. Merrodan’s return journey was swift. Laying in at Meridia, a free port not ruled by one of the Kingdoms, they resupplied, but keeping to themselves did not promote who they were. However, the Titan of the West was known to many and word spread of his arrival. The city council not wanting to upset the Kingdoms, sent word that Merrodan and his men could resupply but must leave immediately. Having no intention of staying, he was only made more bitter by this new rejection. Within sight of his homeland, Rhodizephrys, Merrodan was struck by a terrible illness, believed to have been caused by poison, for within minutes, the Titan of the West lay cold, dead on the deck of the ship. None of his attendants or crew knew what to do, he had been the driving force for everything. He had not share his counsels with others; none knew what he intended, other than maybe his children. Miskri stood upon the docks watching her father’s ship approach, but as he was struck down, she let out a piercing wail. Heard across the city, her despair was soon felt by all, as the ship came to port with the tragic news. Messengers were sent to his sons, Hexolian, who was leading a large army toward the city of Tetricala on the northern coast close to the border of the Rhodezephrys Kingdom, and Herrodan who had just crossed over in an enormous fleet to Barbaria with an even larger army. Hexolian, upon hearing the news, flew into a rage and force-marched his men to a nearby undefended town of uncertain allegiance. However, killing everyone and burning the entire settlement to the ground did not sate his lust for revenge. Pushing his army on to Tetricala, he besieged the city. From launching plague victims over the walls to summoning a demon of the deeps to destroy all the ships in the bay, he used many ruthless tactics in his attempts to make the city capitulate. Tetricala was a city-state with its own internal government with strong mercantile ties to both Benselot and Telephos. An assault upon their ally could not go unanswered, but outright war was in no way desirable to the loose collection of Kingdoms, who were very aware that the Rhodizephrys army was superior in arms and skill, having spent a generation campaigning. Delegations were sent to Hexolian; he slew them all, then flung their bodies over the walls to their allies. The Kingdoms as this point formed what would later be known as The Confederacy of Kingdoms. They sought to bind themselves together for mutual peace and prosperity. Vowing to uphold the Consilium of Isulstad’s counsels and protect one another if attacked, eight of the ancient Kingdoms, or what was left of them, reunited. They were not ready to begin a war though, spending months deliberating on a proper course of action, as Tetricala starved. The many young men and women of the lesser nobility and upper merchant class saw this siege as an opportunity for adventure. Military clubs were formed, mercenary bands gathered, and the People’s Army of Northern Telephos was formed. A mixture of nationalities and cultures, soldiers and enthusiasts, nobles and commoners, this force of considerable number began to form on the plains of Northern Telephos. Men and women from all the kingdoms came, seeking adventure and glory; they could not have known what fate had set out for them. And this is where my story truly begins, where I come in. I was one of those fools who marched off to war with epic stories bouncing about my head. It would take a few hard whacks from the enemy before I realized what I’d gotten myself into. War was no game to be played and put away. For years to comes I would awaken to the horrors of my first battle, the First Route of Hexolian. And I say first because he and his siblings would dupe us over and over again in this war, making utter fools out of the noble and wise.

Merrodan, the great unifier of his nomadic peoples, is dead. Many say he was poisoned by agents of the Isulstad Consilium, the religious and mercantile rulers of the island city, who hold considerable sway in city-states and nations, both, of the ten ancient Kingdoms and many others in the surrounding area. Whether by their agents or natural causes, Merrodan’s son, Herrodan, has sworn vengeance upon the Ten Families. These horse-warriors’ kings trace their lineage back to the Ten Families; as offspring of the line of Anaxaneas, Herrodan now sees himself as the rightful ruler of an empire, which has been dead for a thousand years. However, Herrodan is not so far off in his thinking. In response to this mighty threat the Isulstad Consilium has sent out pleas to all the ancient Ten Kingdoms to send men and aid to fight off this invader, leading to a union of nations stretching the length of three continents, called the Confederacy of Kingdoms, which will as my story progresses become an empirical and despotic government, leading King Peter and Benselot to have to fight against the very system they helped to create. Once Herrodan saw his father’s body, lifeless, he would not stop until his shout was heard at the very Gates of Justice. He would not stand for the backstabbing and politicking The Consilium of Kingdoms had brought down upon the world. Seeing the heart of civilization in Isulstad on the Mountain of the Gods, Herrodan intended to strike at the island city. Isulstad was the largest city in the world, covering the expanse of the entire island, protected by five bastioned harbors, cities of their own, able to defend against almost any attack, or hold out to a lengthy siege. Housing close to three million people on festival years, even in the stormy season over a million-people inhabited the isle. Herrodan knew he could not assault the city straight away. A plan was devised between himself and his two siblings, after he returned from Barbaria. They would each lead an army into different theaters of the war, while Herrodan’s new wife, the Queen of Barbaria, would invade Bensilot. Hexolian would venture south, on secret paths, to attack the Lionmen, occupying their formidable forces. Muskara, their sister would protect the motherland, an invasion was imminent with so many enemies on the horizon. She was a master of administration and espionage, building intricate networks of spies and tradesmen across the Rhodizephrys Empire. Herrodan would lead the main host into the heart of their rival’s lands, Telephos. But Tetricala must be taken first…