Torin III
Torin's armor was snug, perfectly fitted to his body. It was made of steel, shining and strong. Undoubtedly due to the quartermaster's fine skills. Luckily when a monarch falls the people who make the armors and weapons don't care too much who they're making them for. Quartermaster Dennett was remarkable in his trade. Torig, Burz and Dane stood at the opposite end of the room, admiring the masters handiwork.
"Fit alright, my lord? Your father commissioned a set of family armaments as one of his first acts! Quite the honor on my behalf." Dennett bowed deeply, then a grin stretched out across his mustached face revealing his missing incisor.
"I must say, Master Dennett I do think you've outdone yourself! This is the finest work I've ever witnessed!" exclaimed Torin. "The intricate design is just incredible!"
And that it was. Aside from being made from strong steel and being polished brighter then Burz' teeth, the armor of House Wykehem was astonishing. On the chest piece was a clearly delicately crafted design, House Wykehem's family crest, A grizzly bear standing tall and proud. Master Dennett had replaced the eyes of the bear with two large emeralds. He bragged that it added texture and a little spice to the ensemble. And that was difficult to disagree with. Behind the bear were two hand axes, crossed. Metal work this good is quite rare in Zandrinia. Even back home where the Wykehem's hail, the craftsmen made crude sets of armor from local iron mines. It took many months of both smuggling and robbing through hired mercenaries to secure enough proper armor and swords to arm the Wykhem men. Seven months in and it was still not enough to even dream of overthrowing the King. Here, in the capitol they had good, strong, proper steel.
"My lord gives me too high a praise! I thank you!" he bowed again.
"Thank you, Master Dennett but we should really be moving on" interjected Torig.
Dennett held his bow. "Of course, my lords. Enjoy the ceremony and please, do call on me if you require any arms or such to be crafted."
"You will be the first and only call. Now, good day." Torig motioned for Torin to leave and the group of Torin, Torig, Dane and Burz continued onward towards the throne room.
Pillars of marble lined the throne room, reaching towards the ceiling that went on for ages. The throne sat at the top of a staircase and it was truly a magnificent thing. It was crafted out of gold and adorned with images of roses to represent the previous rulers. This would be rectified once the Wykehems had been crowned and truly settled into their new home. Behind the throne were three stained glass windows, reaching up at least forty feet. The glass depicted the rise of God-Emperor Zandrine. First, the humble beginnings of a great man. The old Emperor himself was originally one of the common folk. He lead a commoner rebellion against the local lord who had been killing, starving, and various forms of abusing his people. The second window depicted Zandrines rise to power. Directly above the throne, a common man raising armies, decimating all the kings of old and taking his place as Emperor. He united the Kingdoms, installing his closest friends as the new kings and queens of the various lands beneath him. Thus, establishing Zandrinia. Finally, the third window on the right. Zandrine's ascension to godhood, along with his empress. For he refused to leave this realm without her by his side. The glass depicted the pair, hands clasped together looking up toward the night sky. The sky was strange however, red with balls of blue fire raining down from the sky. It looked like more of like an end of days then an ascension to godhood. Torin kept his eyes fixed upon the stained glass, deep in though, pondering Emperor Zandrines life. But after a moment his thoughts were interrupted by a booming voice, the sound came from behind and was that of his father. King Reoman entered from the hallway opposite from which the brothers entered. Torin did an about face to view his bear of a father. He stood taller then Torig, about six foot two. Atop his head was a long mane of grey and brown. Strangely he had shaved his beard for the ceremony, Torin wasn't sure if he had ever seen his father without a beard. His jaw was rather square and powerful. Torin had never thought of his father's chin before.
"My boys! Come, gather around! We have some words to exchange before the ceremonies begin!" Massive arms waved over the three siblings. "Dane, you are dismissed please join the rest of the guard outside for the ceremony!"
Dane bowed deeply and marched on out of the throne room.
"Torig, Torin, Burz, my boys. There are troubling things that we must discuss. I'm sure the first thing you may notice is that your eldest brothers is not present." He paused for a moment. "He will not be attending the coronation, sadly. But we will come to that, in time. Follow me to the council chamber." He waved his hands and the group began their walk short walk to the council chambers. Here, war was planned, taxes were adjusted, the world was changed and most important to the present, secrets were discussed.
"Now what I'm about to tell you does not leave this room. Do you all understand? And all of you, take a seat."
One by one the brothers sat at the long stone table. Once in place they all nodded to their father, acknowledging his words.
"Good, now, listen closely." King Reoman leaned on the stone table. "I have received some terrible news from the lands across the ocean."
"Beldercaust?" Questioned Torig.
"Yes. Our spies have confirmed to me that the the lands of Beldercaust are under siege." Reoman raised his hand to twirl a beard he no longer had.
"I don't understand, what does this have to do with us? We haven't established any friendships with any foreign nation. Why is this a problem for us?" Torin spoke dismissively.
"For one, my son, the nature of the threat is unknown to us. All the spies could tell me is that entire towns in the south of Beldercaust have been destroyed, just like that! Wiped off the map. But their rulers are ignoring the threat. The people at large don't even know it's happening. Their covering it up for some reason. I have my suspicions that it may be some kind of new development in magic that cruel rulers are testing on their subjects. Magic that can eliminate entire towns? How long before it can evaporate a city like steam? Melt a kingdom like lava?"
The three brother looked deeply concerned now. This was deeply disturbing, until now magic was important and had it's uses in battle but this was something else. Destruction on that scale, the lives lost would be, immeasurable.
"What are we to do, father?" Torig questioned with a grim look on his face.
"There.. must be something that can be done." Added Burz.
"I've already put plans in motion to figure out what this is and put a stop to it, if we can. This is now where we get to the last two points of you being here. Point one, I've sent Reoman and a negligable force to the west. Soon they will be boarding ships embarking for Beldercaust."
"Father why would you do such a thing? One man is one thing but a force is another! Are you trying to wage another war right as one has ended?" Torig said, astonished.
"This, this is necessary. I do not wish war with Beldercaust but on top of this magical anomaly, I believe I know the man responsible for developing such magic. Ive sent your brother to aprehend him.. It seems to me, my sons, we were not as vigilant with our swords as we believed."
"What do you mean? We have no enemies! The Trevelyan line is mounted on the gates!" Torin shouted in surprise."
"Burz, do you have the book?" King Reoman asked.
"Yes, father, here it is." Burz placed the book on the stone table and slid it to the King.
The King lifted the book up and flipped through many pages. Finally he stopped and placed the book open on the table for all to see.
"Here." The King held his finger on a page. "Torin, please, read it aloud."
Torin adjusted the book slightly to get a better read of it and eyed the passage. The top left of the page was dated over twenty years ago. It seems the Trevelyans were exceptional book keepers in their time.
"Monday, October the 29th, 1134. Twas a somber day for the family. Somber for I, at least, for I suspect something foul. The rest of the family sees a day of merriment. I am not so childish. Markham has become an excellent wizard but has reached the maximum capability of one learning in Zandrinia. For two hundred years this country has practiced the art of martial warfare, not magic! Alas, Markham yearns for more power. 'For more knowledge' he says but I know this family. The bastard plans to overtake me! I know it! His ship sets sail for Beldercaust within the hour. Good riddance, I say. Enjoy making good with filthy Elves, Dwarves and whatever other creatures live on that vile continent. I'll be sure that his return is denied. Never again shall a usurper sit this throne! It is mine by right!"
King Reoman took a deep breathe and crossed his arms.
"Torin, Burz, prepare to join your brother across the sea. King Markos' brother yet lives."