In the great hall of Dunfir, the heart of the Shadowspire district, seven Dukes sat gathered around a long, dimly lit table. The air was thick with tension, their faces shadowed in flickering torchlight as they discussed their rebellion against King Magnus. These were no ordinary men and women—they were the masterminds behind a revolution that sought to shake the very foundations of Arenthia. Each Duke held their district with an iron grip, their alliances carefully woven over years of quiet manipulation. Now, their web of conspiracy was ready to be unleashed.
Duke Dorian Umbravane, the leader of the rebellion and head of House Umbravane, sat at the head of the table. His dark eyes gleamed with intelligence, his pale skin almost translucent in the low light. His district of Shadowspire had always been a place of whispers, secrets, and shadows, and it was no surprise that he led this charge against the crown. He placed his hands on the table, fingers steepled, as he addressed the others.
"Our spies in the capital have confirmed it," Duke Umbravane began, his voice low and measured. "The king intends to summon every Duke. I guess he's discovered our little plan. This changes things."
The room was silent as the other Dukes processed the news. They had been planning for months, years even, to topple King Magnus from his throne, but now the situation had shifted. The king knew of their treachery. The question was: how would he react?
"This means," Umbravane continued, "we can no longer wait in the shadows. It's time to move. We need to think of a course of action, one that will bring the kingdom to its knees while Magnus is vulnerable."
Duke Varis Darkwater of Sablemere, a man known for his sharp wit and even sharper tongue, leaned forward in his chair. "I've known the king since we were children," he said, his voice like a serpent's hiss. "I know how he thinks. He won't hold the meeting in the capital—it's too dangerous for him, especially now that he suspects rebellion. He'll summon the Dukes somewhere else within his district, a location where he thinks he'll have control."
The other Dukes nodded in agreement. King Magnus would not risk an open confrontation in Brightwater, his home district. The question now was: where would he go?
Duke Raelyn Firesong of Emberglow, known for her quick temper and fiery personality, chimed in next. "Where do you think he would hold this meeting? If we can predict his location, we can plan a strike. An ambush where they least expect it, where the remaining Dukes are at their weakest."
The room grew quiet as the Dukes mulled over her words. The thought of catching the king and his loyal Dukes off-guard was tempting—too tempting to pass up.
"What about Sirco?" suggested Duke Torin Stonehelm of Ironridge. His voice was deep, like the echo of a hammer on an anvil. "Magnus has ties there. He's always been close with Lord Simtrek. If he's holding this meeting outside of Brightwater, there's a good chance he'll choose Sirco as a place to gather the Dukes."
There was a pause as the others considered this. Sirco was a strategic location, not too far from Brightwater, and its defenses were formidable but could be circumvented with the right plan.
"I agree," Umbravane said after a moment of thought. "Sirco is a likely target. It's close enough to Magnus's seat of power that he'd feel secure, but isolated enough that he might believe no one would dare attack him there. Anyone else have a suggestion?"
The room remained silent. It was clear to everyone that Sirco was the best option.
"Then it's decided," Umbravane said, his voice final. "We shall send a hundred of our best magicians, disguised as civilians, into Sirco immediately. They will blend in, unnoticed, and when the city gates close for the meeting, they will open them for our forces. Our main army should arrive just as the meeting is taking place. They won't be expecting us, and we will have the element of surprise on our side."
Duke Umbravane's words were met with nods of approval. The plan was simple but deadly. The king and his loyal Dukes would be sitting ducks, trapped in Sirco with no chance of escape. It was a bold move, but one that could secure their victory.
"Let us prepare the magicians," Umbravane continued. "They must leave tonight. Sirco will be ours before the king even realizes what has happened."
As they moved to put the plan in motion, the mood in the room shifted. Victory seemed closer now, tangible. The Dukes began discussing the spoils of war, their voices rising as they argued over which districts would belong to whom once the rebellion succeeded.
"I want control of Valebrook," Raelyn Firesong demanded, her eyes blazing with determination. "That district has always been too prosperous to be wasted under the Silverleaf family."
"You'll have to pry it from my hands, Raelyn," Varis Darkwater said with a sly grin. "Valebrook is mine. It borders my lands, and I will not give it up."
"Enough!" shouted Duke Umbravane, slamming his hand on the table. "There will be plenty to divide once Magnus is overthrown. For now, we must focus on the task at hand. The district division can wait until the crown is ours."
The room fell silent once more, the Dukes exchanging heated glances. The rebellion had united them, but greed was already beginning to tear at the seams. Each Duke wanted their share of the spoils, and none were willing to compromise.
In the shadows, a servant poured drinks into the Dukes' cups, his movements slow and deliberate. He was dressed in the plain garb of a house servant, his face hidden beneath a low hood. To the untrained eye, he was nothing more than a simple man, invisible among the nobles.
But this servant was no ordinary man.
As he poured wine into Duke Umbravane's cup, his eyes flicked upward, scanning the faces of the conspirators. He had heard every word spoken in this room, and each piece of information was carefully stored away in his mind. He was the same guard who had once helped Torrack escape, and now, he found himself deep within the heart of the rebellion, playing a dangerous game.
For months, he had worked his way into Duke Umbravane's household, biding his time, waiting for the right moment to act. Now, as the rebellion gathered momentum, that moment was drawing near.
His hand trembled slightly as he poured the last cup, but he steadied himself quickly. He had to remain calm—no one could know his true purpose here. If they discovered his loyalty to King Magnus, his life would be forfeit.
The Dukes continued their discussion, oblivious to the man who had just served them.
"We are guaranteed victory," Duke Stonehelm said, his voice filled with confidence. "Once Sirco falls, the rest of the kingdom will follow. Magnus won't stand a chance."
Umbravane smiled, a cold, calculating grin that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who saw it. "Indeed. We've planned for every contingency. The king will be caught off guard, and when he realizes the trap we've set, it will be too late."
The servant turned away, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to find a way to get this information to the king, to warn him of the impending attack. But how? The Dukes had spies everywhere, and if he made one wrong move, it could spell disaster for the crown.
As he exited the great hall, the voices of the conspirators faded into the background. The rebellion was in full motion now, and the kingdom's future hung in the balance.
But there was one thing Duke Umbravane and his allies had not accounted for—a single man in the shadows, waiting to strike.