New lord!?

In the kingdom of Dravenfell, in the year 426 of the Fallen Era, in the cold and isolated lands to the north, stands the fortress of the Page Family, one of the poorest baronies in the region. Constantly weakened by the attacks of the monsters that come down from the mountains and by the bandits who haunt the surroundings, his situation has never been easy.

At the top of one of the towers, a man with red hair and blue eyes observes the horizon. The wind howls and whips his clothes, but he doesn't move. Lost in thoughts, time passes without him noticing.

"My father... dead in an ambush... and now, the Pantaleão invade our lands."

The Pantaleão Family, neighbor and rival of the Page, has always desired the fertile lands of the barony. Now, taking advantage of the tragedy, they ambushed Gareth Page, the patriarch of the family, along with half of his warriors. Gareth had led his men to face "bandits" who looted his subjects, but it was a trap. Surrounded by a Pantaleon army, composed of two intermediate junior knights, six primary juniors, archers and warriors, he fought bravely until the end. Before dying, he took four knights with him, including an intermediary.

"Fortunately, one of the warriors escaped to bring us the news..."

Now, they marched to the fortress. Drake Page knew he had at most one day to organize the defenses, gather what was left of his family and prepare the few men he still had. Everyone was shaken by their father's death. He needed to act fast. Leaving the window, Drake came down from the tower and walked to the main hall, where the dragon-shaped throne, which apart from his father, now belonged to him.

The Page family consisted of his mother, the matriarch Serene, his uncle Magno, his father's brother, his aunt Eira, his three younger brothers, his sister, two cousins and a cousin. His brothers were Michael, the oldest, Throne, the middle one, and Korin, the youngest. His sister was called Elara, and his cousins were Cedric, Roland and Mira.

When entering the hall, the tension was palpable. His uncle walked from one side to the other, thoughtful, while the rest of the family remained silent, head down. Drake, since he was a child, has always been a cold person. His father used to say that he had a greater destiny, and had promised to tell him about the family's inheritance when he turned 18. Now, there were only four months left, and Gareth was no longer there to fulfill his promise.

"First, I need to deal with the Pantaleão. Then, I'll see what my father left for me."

Drake asked the women of the family to leave the hall, and then began to discuss military affairs. He knew that, as a new patriarch, he needed to take control. He called the remaining knights.

"Counting on me and my uncle, we only have two junior intermediate riders and four junior primary riders. That's ridiculously little..." he thought, letting out a long sigh.

When the knights entered the hall, they knelt before Drake.

"We respect the new patriarch. Our destinies are intertwined. Our sword is yours. Long live!"

"Get up, my warriors. We are a united house," Drake said, sketching a slight smile.

"Welcome. I know we are in a desperate situation, but we cannot allow our family to fall into their hands..."

Drake's eyes shone brightly. He continued, his voice firm:

"Know one thing: the blood that took my father's life will still be in my sword when it's over."

The atmosphere in the salon has changed. The pressure increased, and the knights exchanged nervous glances, feeling the weight of the threat hanging over them. Even Drake's uncle, a man hardened by years of battles and the rigor of the north, seemed worried.

"Nephew," said Magno, with a heavy voice, "I believe you, but we need more men. With what we have, I'm afraid the fortress won't last a week."

Drake, with an enigmatic smile on his lips, replied:

"I already have a plan, uncle. When the time comes, just follow my orders. We will all get out of this... whole."

Drake's smile didn't bring the comfort his uncle expected, but there was something in his eyes that indicated that the young patriarch knew more than he was letting through. Something was about to change.