Vol 1.1: The Northland

The house of honor, Isenhart, resides in the North of the Everland Empire. Its lord is Erdemir Isenhart. He is a fierce, respectable warrior, and one beloved lord amongst his subjects.

Erdemir is known for his honour and integrity. No man is born higher in his land, only the content of their character matters. He is the lord who draws his sword and fights alongside his fellow soldiers, a true battle hardened general on the field of war.

Needless to say, his reputation precedes him and acts as a power banner for his house.

The house of Wisdom, Argenlocke, resides in the west part of the Everland Empire. Its lord is Tobias Argenlocke, mastermind of a ruler and one genius in gathering wealth. He has never lost a battle. His land, the richest and most prosperous of all the Five Great Houses in the Empire. His first son, Gerald Argenlocke, is one of the best swordsmen in all of Everland. His second daughter, Emilia Argenlocke, is the fairest maiden of all, the stunning dream for men to chase after. House Argenlocke holds what all people yearn for, riches, strength and beauty.

To the South East is house Aurion, the symbol of Bravery. They have been a long last ally with house Isenhart. Both their symbols, honor and bravery are what people call the twin of virtue in the land. They are the houses that cast a long shadow behind for men to admire. Its lord, Renald Aurion, is a close friend of lord Erdemir Isenhart.

Occupied on the Eastern coast, the domain with the least land to their name is house Decove, the house of Loyalty. Their presence on land may be minimal but they are a force to be reckoned with on seafaring. Multiple islands and a vast area of the Eastern Sea is under their control. The current Lord Admiral of Imperial Fleet is also held by this house, Mackoroy Decove. Their symbol is a great virtue to behold but many men consider them less than the twin virtue. The sole reason is because the loyalty of house Decove does not lie in oaths, faiths, or the royal family. They only fight for who they believe in, whether they are good or bad, lowborn or highborn. Their loyalty exceeds common sense and the usual tradition.

Way down to the South, there is the lonely house of courage, Carlisle. This house is also considered to be one of the Five Great Houses but its influence has been diminishing over the years. The Great Lord, Mael Carlisle has no son and his only daughter, Diana Carlisle, is the current Empress. Their current power is not to be questioned but their lineage is. Lord Mael is already in his sixties and infertile. His house has no heir and with no male successor, their name will soon fade into the void of history.

Back to the Lord of the North. Erdermir Isenhart has five children, Mordus, Gwenevere, Ninianne, Bertalan and Lucius. His eldest son, Mordus, was proved to be a genius from birth. Not only was he able to read and write when he was two years old, he took on a sword at three and became a skilled swordsman by the age of seven. The age that normal children still wonder what dinner will be and where to go play.

Mordus is a promising swordsman, but he cannot yet be compared with the likes of the best, such as Gerald of house Argenlocke. But he is, at the age of fourteen years old, indisputably, the young master of Blackpool and the future lord of house Isenhart.

Erdemir has many good friends. One notable person is Renald Aurion. Another that also resides in the North is Martin Deglaciers, a soldier turned blacksmith. Martin is only a commoner, but Erdemir did not mind. His status does not represent his honour nor his ability on the battlefield. He and Lord Erdemir fought side by side for many years. Martin has proved himself by the content of his character and the tip of his sword.

The Deglacier name goes way back and once belonged to a noble house. Unfortunately, time was not kind to their lineage. A powerful clan, famous for their craftsmanship was quickly diminished into nothing but a family of commoners.

Martin's dream is to take back their glory and once again achieve nobility. He married a common woman. They have a son together, of which they name Arthur.

Today is a cold and windy day. Arthur Deglacier rides with his respected Lord of House Isenhart. Because of their fathers close relationship, it is not a rare sight for Arthur to spend time with Erdemir.

Arthur's birthday is very close. Only a few dozen more nights and he will turn fourteen. He is younger than Mordus by two months. The entire fortress of Blackpool already celebrated the young lord coming of age. Arthur was present, he and his best friend, Mordus, drank themselves to death that night. It was memorable and most importantly, Gwen was not there to ruin the fun.

Following Arthur and Erdemir are a couple of guardsmen. Lord Erdemir is capable enough to wipe them all out but still, a lord needs his protection, and Erdemir is not that arrogant to think that he is invincible.

"My lord, today's hunt seems quite unforgiving."Arthur says.

"Arthur, as I have said before, If it's not official, address me as uncle Erdemir. If you insist not to change, it is a humiliation to the bond of me and your father." Erdemir says with a comforting smile on his face.

"Yes, uncle. That is my mistake." Arthur quickly apologises. He is only a commoner. Therefore, he does not dare to address the lord of the land by his true name. He does, however, think that calling Erdemir as uncle is not disrespecting him.

"My Lord! There is someone up ahead. Looks like they are injured." A guardsman approaches Erdemir and reports.

"Hmm. Coyote? Are they bothering the farmers again?" Erdemir says. Coyotes have always been a problem for the Northman, they are a death sentence for the cattles. Erdemir tried his best to solve this problem but no solutions proved permanent.

"No, my lord! It does not seem like it. It is possible that he is a noble man and seems like he has fought his way out of a battle."

Erdemir immediately frowns. This means that there might be bandits nearby and there was a fight. He does not tolerate such scoundrels to exist in his land. The fact is all bandit factions have been eradicated by him long ago. Only small groups and lonely criminals still operate. But still, they are smart enough to avoid noblemen to not draw unwanted attention.

"Help!" The stranger screams from afar.

With a swift kick, Erdemir sends the horse into a gallop, its strides lengthening with every second. Arthur and the guardsmen follow suit.

They approach the stranger in question. A middle aged man, likely in his thirties, with a bloody dark overcoat. His black hair mixed with grey is nicely folded as waves pointing to the back of his head. He seems very pathetic now but even Arthur can tell that this is no mere nobleman.

The appearance of the stranger reminds Arthur of Erdemir himself, menacing, commanding and powerful.

Erdemir rides forth. The stranger's emotion is somehow conflicted when he sees the Lord of the North. Relief, there is. But also a glimpse of bitterness and surprise. It's as if he is not expecting to see the Lord of the North in the land of the North.

What a peculiar person. Arthur thinks.

The stranger drops down to the grass. Erdemir gets off of his horse and checks the stranger's vitals.

"Please be careful, my lord!" The guardsmen quickly surround the unconscious stranger.

Arthur can't help but smile. He knows the guardsmen worry about lord Erdemir's safety. But they underestimate his prowess too much. Erdemir Isenhart might not be the warrior he once was but no assassin can easily penetrate his defence.

"He's alive." Erdemir says. He is surprised at the meticulous skill that has poured into the clothes of the stranger. It is better than anything he has ever seen. The only thing that can compare with it is the royal costume, which has the best of tailors and craftsmen's sweat poured into it.

This is a symbol for extreme wealth or power, or maybe both. This man is not simple.

"Bring him. Mind his wound, do not let it rupture again. We ride back to the fortress, now."

"Yes, my lord!" The guardsmen shout. Two of them carry the stranger and put him on the horseback. Together, they ride back to the fortress of Blackpool, the residence of house Isenhart.

Blackpool is the largest town in the North. It is still considered sparse for other towns, especially the trading city of Corvinium. Arthur heard that there are a lot of people over there, houses stacking next to each other and with every step, a different store or tavern. It is incredibly lively compared to the lonely sight of Blackpool.

The weather here is harsh and hardly anything grows. It is no wonder that people despise living here. If the people had a choice, Arthur thinks they would have moved to any other place. There is no summer here. The rare days of which the sun is visible are only a few mornings in July. And the winter lasts for moons and won't disappear until May.

The things that can survive here are either very resilient or extremely dangerous. 

Blackpool got its name from the lake of Yore. Its water froze for hundreds of years and black as squid ink. Nothing lives under it but that does not prevent some adventurous fishermen from carving a hole and trying their luck.

Arthur has never seen anyone succeed in his short lifetime. Maybe his father may know about it.

The group of men arrived at the fortress. The town of Blackpool is in front of the castle gate. Inside the gate reside only the few noble houses and the force of the North.

The military of the North does not have its official name. People here call them the guard. But outside the area, people like to address them as Blackguard. This, of course, comes from their armor of black, which is surprisingly distinct from the other houses.

There are two guards standing on duty at the gate of the fortress. They bow their heads solemnly when Erdemir and his men show up.

"M'lord!"

The group continues striding past them. Lord Erdemir nods slightly to the two guards before leaving.

In the open field, where the soldiers usually practice, two young boys hold their wooden sword and strike each other.

One boy is slim and tall with a bowl haircut. The other is shorter with wavy long hair.

Bertalan and Lucius. Both, respectively, nine and seven years old.

Bertalan uses his reach advantage and pokes his little brother from afar. Lucius, despite his tantrum and persistent, does not land a single strike at his brother. Bertalan knows their limit and pokes lightly, avoiding Lucius's head. Even so, each time the wooden tip touches his body, Lucius feels like his dignity gets lowered by a level.

"Argh! I will catch you eventually, Bert!" Lucius says.

"I'm always waiting for that day, little Luc." Bertalan with a slightly devious smile, responds.

Both of them realise their father is coming. They immediately drop their wooden swords and come running at him.

Erdemir laughs out loud and gets off of his horse.

"My sons seem productive today!" Erdemir gently put his hands on the two boys' heads. They both approach and hug his belly.

"Father! Bert bullies me!" As the little one of the family, Lucius immediately uses this advantage to get back to Bertalan.

"I did not! Father, don't listen to him!" Bertalan is not shy in verbal combat.

"What did I say about lying, Luc?"

"It is dishonourable, father..."

Erdemir's face stern and he says: "Never dishonour yourself, Lucius. Especially if it's toward your own blood and family. Do you understand?"

"I understand, father..." Lucius cheerlessly says.

Bertalan feels like he's winning and making a face toward Lucius, he sticks his tongue out provocatively.

"And you, Bertalan. You dishonored yourself by bullying your little brother in a game he can't win! If you want to help him with his sword, show him the way, explain. Not endlessly poking your little brother for fun!"

"I'm sorry, father..." Bertalan lowers his head.

Mordus has arrived for a while now and is amusingly watching everything from afar. He and Arthur stand together and talk for a bit. To his surprise, Arthur tells him about the strange man they encountered today