Start of a mission

Alpheo had been waiting for this moment ever since he had ascended to the throne—or rather, married his way into it, only to discover the crown's lands to be woefully underpopulated. The disparity between the land's potential and its meager population had been gnawing at him like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch.

He knew why, of course. Feudal societies weren't built for mobility. In a system where most people worked land they didn't own, tied to it by the iron grip of tradition and their lord's will, the idea of packing up and moving elsewhere was nearly unthinkable. Serfs were as much a part of the land as the crops they toiled over, bound by law and custom to stay put. From birth, their world was confined to the stretch of soil they were born on, unless a disaster like a famine forced their hands.