The minotaur

The Minotaur sat in his tent, still in his armor, his signature helmet a bulls head,sat in front of him on his table next to a large tin mug of ale. He was .looking out at his men celebrating, this didn't feel much like a victory. He couldn't place his finger on it, but it all seemed too easy. Like the citadel wanted them to attack, he wasn't sure about much but what he was sure of was this wasn't going to be the end of it. The magestrate was a school of magic first, and had many great mages in their employ, the magestrate had great power at its command. The magical residents of Thre'a wouldn't take the magical capitols destruction and killing of its residents too kindly, there would surely be an outcry for justice across the realm.

The citadels mages are the ones who created the techno-drivers, the greatest weapons known to Thre'a. "Its foolish to think only we have these weapons, to believe they don't have any tucked away for themselves is a folly." He muttered to himself.

Two skinny young boys carrying armfuls of treasure laughed as they passed the raging bull of the royal army's tent. "I can't wait to get back home, I'll be a hero back in the sully, bet i could get a couple maidens to question their honor, maybe even break their vows to their husbands!" " i'm gonna make a bastard or two myself,I may even manage to marry myself a lords extra daughter!" They spoke of what they wanted to do when they got home-fuck girls, hug their mothers, and spend some of the gold they would get for this. They also had filled their rucksacks with treasures they had managed to loot in the raid on the city.

An eerie chill fell over the minotaur, he didn't know why but he felt they needed to return home with haste. He grabbed his cup and chugged the brew down to the bottom, he wiped his mouth and picked up his helmet.

It was a gorgeous piece of armor, a golden bulls head, stained red with the blood of many enemies. The craftsman was unknown, the metal was Etherial steel from the black sand islands forged by the families most famous ancient relative the blacksmith His father gave it to him when he joined the military and he wore it into every battle he ever took part in. The helmet was strong, able to deflect arrows, pike and swords, other than the blood stains the helmet held no flaws or blemishes and was almost weightless to its owner. The helmet had gone through the generations becoming the symbol of their house, partly because of the iconic battles it had appeared in bringing glory to its house, mostly because only a member of the family could wield the helmet to anyone else it would be far too heavy to even lift.

The minotaur made his way from his tent and towards the captains tent, the men would have to celebrate later they needed to go back home sooner rather than later.

He entered a large red tent bearing the royal crest of a golden phoenix across the top, behind a long table sat five armor clad knights laughing and recounting the siege. " I had hope to nab me a witch and placed a La'velle bastard in her belly. Too bad we were ordered to leave no one alive." He chuckled to himself, he was a grimy looking bald man, large and missing teeth, his armor was black bearing the kings crest, " I did manage to find a chest of silver i brought back with me, and enough silk to fill a Sooners hull!" " Aye it would have been nice to fuck one of those witches with red hair, but orders are orders and i'm sure i'll get my chance another time." A second captain, also clad in black armor chimed in, taking large gulps from a tin mug he was constantly refilling. His long blonde hair was tied behind his ears

The minotaur entered the tent ignoring the chattering of the two drunk men, he intended to speak with the captain first class, order the troops to load and board together now and set sail. "Sir! You honor us with your company in our celebrations!" A knight, under six foot tall smiling showing pearly white teeth, short black hair and very striking. He was younger by a few years than the minotaur but had as many battles under his belt and as many victories. He was a skilled with a spear, his father had taken great interest in his training and insisted he start as soon as he could walk. His weapon of choice sat against a large chair in the corner furthest from the door. "Rakan! It is wonderful to have you in our tent my friend, come fill your cup and sit with us. Another great victory under your belt." Rakan, the minotaurs name was almost taboo to say for most men, but not for all. "Jason, you and your boys were the winners of this battle, I just have the pleasure of taking all the credit." They laughed together and patted each others shoulders pieces. "Jason i'v had a change of mind, tell the men to sober up, I want us on those ships before nightfall and back in La'velle in a fortnite." The handsome knights smile faded, "Sir, the men faught hard and need the rest for morale, surely they deserve at least a slight reprieve." Rakan knew his men would not be happy to have to end their celebrations so abruptly but was annoyed by his captains questioning of an order. " That's my command captain. Any man not on those ships by morning will be left behind and punished when they return home from the long road."

"What about the wounded?" Jason pointed to a large tent, " how do we get them in, some of them are in to harsh a condition to travel, some need care from the battle medics."

Rakan thought for a moment, he had almost forgotten they did have some wounded, Autumnveil was a city of mages, and a few of the first men had taken some curses and fire balls. "

"Fine, we leave them and some of the medics behind with a few men as guards and some wagons and horses to take them home on the long road when they are able. The rest move out." Rakan gave his order and headed to the tents opening, "i expect this tent to be empty in five minutes." The other captains slammed their ales grabbed their gear and started rallying their men to fill the ships and get to their assignments on the ships before dusk.

News made its way to the royal capitol of the victory over Autumnveil, how easily it was destroyed and how a vital blow was dealt to the citadels power. The people of the city cheered as the news reached their district, music filled the air as they took to the streets celebrating. The king watched from the tallest tower of the shadows keep, the cities namesake -the La'Velle.

The royal home, the castle La'Velle was an ancient grand castle. Black obsidian made up its streets and pathways a dozen large red towers bearing black rooftops, the main structure was done in a dark grey sandstone, the walls followed the structure in color . Considered to be un breach-able the structure had stood through sieges and wars throughout the ages, the most recent being the war that lead to ascension of the house of Arcana to power three hundred years prior.

"My king!" A man wearing imperial black armor embossed with the royal insignia enter the chamber the king was occupying with haste. His cape flowed behind him as he hurried to the king, he bowed, his sandy brown hair flowed over his shoulders, " my lord, we were victorious over Autumnveil and suffered minimal losses. Our men are heading home across the savage waters. We have also received reports that the citadel has received word about our attack. " Ivan scratched his chin and thought deeply.

This was an all out act of war against the mages of the citadel and he was certain that they would retaliate but where? Which city would they strike, maybe the coastal city of Krakensguard of the south western coast, or the neighboring city Sunshield. There were four grand royal cities they could hit, plus La'Velle though the citadel wouldn't dare attack the royal capitol, attack the king himself. "Send word to the great cities, have them put their armies on alert, there will be blood."

He motioned for the knight to leave and called for his cup bearer to bring him some wine, a small boy in red robes came in holding a golden pitcher and a fine gold goblet endowed with black rubies. Ivan took the goblet and the pitcher " get along boy, i'll keep these with me, your dismissed for the day, go enjoy the celebrations." He turned his back to the boy as he filled his cup. The boy smiled and bowed " Thank you your grace! Your generosity is more than I deserve!." He scurried out of the room with haste, unable to contain his excitement you could hear him singing as he walked down the hall. He was the youngest male cousin to the king, Jessip Arcana, the kings favorite cousin. He was a decent cup bearer, but a wonderful singer and a skilled chess player. Hailed to be a chess genius himself the king and his cup bearer would spend hours on the squares playing.

Jessips parents had been taken by the plague, just as Ivans. His father was Ivans cousin, they grew up together in the La'Velle. Mortimer Arcana was taller with eyes like honey to match his flowing long hair and fair face, he was as close to Ivan as a brother and the two would party and whore together in their youth before Ivans father, the previous king arranged a marriage to a powerful houses daughter for him. Elise Highstone of BarenKet the mountain city.

Ivan decided he was the best to raise his cousins son and took him as his ward, no one in the family could refuse him as the child's new guardian being the king. Ivan had no legal heirs of his own, most of his children were bastards and could not inherit the throne. Ivan had taken no queen and only had mistresses and consorts, none of which could give him a legal heir, only his daughters had value in those relationships as they could forge alliances. If he had no sons he would name Jessip the heir to the throne, being a legitimate Arcana male even if he was orphaned still was able to hold the titles of his family.