"A few minutes before, or maybe, when your whole machination started, Cyrus? By the Gods, I swear, I'll have yo-" Aleko growled, the storm that he became completely dismantling the otherwise calculated half-breed, "for fuck's sake, can it with your apologies and start talking!"

He took a few moments to read the letter, his eyes darting from edge to edge, his throat rumbling as he muttered the words to himself, until realization fell upon the top of his head; a cold shiver ran down his heated hide, his fingers unlatched the paper from his grasp as a reaction to what felt like a powerful blow to the gut.

"When?" Was all that he could muster, his voice trembling under the weight of his anger and, perhaps, fear for his beloved parent.

"When!"

The answer came, and it was an infuriating one. He closed his eyes shut, his snarl closing into a silent form of rage, his teeth grinding against each other with enough force to erode the enamel. There was a sense of futility already rising from his situation, the thought of an underhanded attack over the city he was born in only churned his insides and froze his blood. For Aleko, there was no doubt this strike was a premeditated one, especially since it was the Stainless Empire of all possible assailants to have trampled over his birth place, of all possible provinces that could be overtaken. There was no valuable resource there, nothing in particular to attract an invading force, at least, nothing that would interest the heir.

"Call all available generals for an emergency meeting." He uttered, facing the door in preparation to storm his way towards the war room. "We have to muster a liberating force and push the Stainless out."

But the wizard did all that he could to keep the half-breed from rushing into a blind charge, having to manhandle the heir to have him stop and listen. He refused to even look up at the elderly man, his gaze affixed unto his own boots. Cyrus insisted that they had to think of a plan and a better moment to move in and liberate the province, but Aleko's fiery rage was yet to be reduced to embers.

"Plan? How many more plans do you have in store that I am not aware of, Cyrus?" He asked, his tone still a rumble of his throat, but words perfectly articulated for the old wizard to understand. "You could at least tell me about my origin before I take my leave. Gods, I don't know where I will go, I'm a deserter in the eyes of the Independent Anthro Forces, I have to bloody run for my life and become a mercenary, thanks to your brilliant machinations! You've ruined me!"

To this, the wizard had cast a spell of sorts that he isolated them from, pretty much, everything else. There was indeed an uneasy sensation, as everything around them faded into monotony and silence, save for the sounds emerging from the two wrapped inside the bubble.

"Gods, I swear, you will not make it alive out of this chambers if you won't stop it with this madness."

Then, finally, the truth arrived. The heir listened intently, but as much as he tried to remain unfazed by the massive reveal, his eyes bulged and his jaw dropped slightly as he found out that his father indeed made it alive, albeit him being ready to be entombed. With everything else, his mother agreeing to form the union, her wanting to become an apprentice of his, they were all strong blows that had the heir dismantle his aggressive attitude, to allow an exhausted one to surface.

That is why he felt so familiar to me, thought Aleko, his eyes drooping from tiring himself out, he must have visited mum when I was an infant.

And now, this woman he considered to be the bravest of them all, had grown much, much more in the eyes of a hopeful child. Again, he felt helpless in the face of this peril that threatened his mother, and he could simply not imagine what she was going through right now. He could only hope that she hid somewhere, that she still had the wits around her to slither away from danger and maybe, maybe, Cyrus indeed have taught her a couple of tricks to keep herself alive. She must be alive, she was no weakling to tremble in fear under the boot of a band of fanatical purists. Aleko knew that this was a personal attack from the Stainless, he simply knew it; therefore, the Stainless had just painted a large target upon their backs, and the heir was more than sure he would pursue it and strike it down.

"If you leave, I leave." He stated, tiredly. "But if I leave, you leave too, and my mother would still be in danger. She trusted you enough, as for my trust, you've shattered what ever figment of it I had. We'll see about your deception some time later, but now, we've an empire to grow. Tomorrow, I want you to bring me a report, a feed-back from our population in regards to their demands and desires. If the envoys have no matters to discuss tomorrow, I want you to rally them to the council chamber so I can have a word with them, and you are to join it too."

"I-" he cleared his throat, throwing a furtive glance at Cyrus's robes carefully, to avert his watered eyes, "I will have a word with general Planestalker. Afterwards, you'll find me in my personal chambers."

Said and done, the heir left, rather unsure on his own feet. Immediately, he searched out the general, and upon finding him in the large dining hall, he pulled the dark elf aside with little regards as to what he was doing before the heir requested his attention. It was a desperate time for him, thus, Aleko had momentarily dropped the respect towards a higher ranking officer to make a personal request, which hopefully, the elf would understand. The heir made sure to present all the details, and the implications of the invasion of Zeiserberg.

"...therefore, I will ask of you to send infiltrators to the province and keep watch over the activity of the Stainless. If any opportunity of subterfuge, or sabotage appears, they are to take it; if they could even inspire rebellion, let it be so, make the invasion force have a hellish time keeping the province occupied and under controlled. Furthermore..." the heir swallowed dryly.

"Should they find clues about my mother, they are to immediately pursue them. Should they, gods be merciful, find her, they are to contact her with the following words: 'flakes of white make the fur go bright, frowns and growls make a pup go wild'. I am aware it sounds ridiculous, but, she will know that it is I who's sent the infiltrators." He even went the length to write down the motto for the general.

That was all that he could do, and it pained him, as he sat slumped in an armchair in his chambers. That day, he did not eat, or drink; the heir refused to leave his chamber, unless something required his immediate attention. He didn't have any other bursts of energy to consume on a hapless target, rather, he boiled himself in his own fears and doubts inside his own room. This was a position he never experienced before as a soldier, or as a person, all of it was completely new to him.

And I better get used to it, he told himself, his fingers rolling a ball of paper against the surface of his desk, there is no honor in war and diplomacy, much less from such scum. I have to swallow this attack, for now, but they mustn't mistake my patience with submission. For when they will be at my boots, begging for my patience and mercy, they will know that I remember.

He fell asleep sometime late in the night, but it was hardly a fitful slumber, with his thoughts keeping him mostly awake. But, the next day had to arrive, him being prepared or not, and his empire required its emperor.

The Mage-Tree forests have all been cut down, the sap gathered and distributed in equal measure, along with saplings, between the Human and Anthro institutes with sufficient competence in working with them as well as swearing allegiance to the New Empire. Work on both the balm and the gas has already started and both institutes have been promised funds to bring these projects to good end. Some of the Elven folk felt outraged that the Mage-Trees have not been burned, yet officially they show contentment with them being used for humanitarian purposes.

[Human Esteem +] [Anthro Esteem +] [Elven Esteem -] [Wealth - - ]

Dwarven hunting parties have been formed and sent to thin out the population of Ice Trolls that threatened their settlements, yet were ordered not to aggressively pursue them until further notice. While thankful for the evasion of out-right extermination, the Elves made their outrage clear to their officials. Angry or not, the population feels safer without the danger of Ice Trolls looming over their heads while the military do not relish the thought of confronting such dangerous beasts in the wild.

[Dwarven Esteem +] [Elven Esteem -] [Population Morale +] [Military Morale -]

Work has already started on the mass-producing of the new long-distance-communicators, now equipped with a magical decryption which will render the devices useless unless the ‘password’, “Hail Emperor Frosty”, is spoken before delivering the message. The password was made public to the higher officials which will be carrying the devices and was suggested by a certain General. Already engineers claim that this invention will revolutionize communication and will be well worth the investment made while soldiers agree that the direct and clear uttering of orders and plans over long-distances will present a major advantage over the enemy.

[Population Morale +] [Military Morale +] [Wealth -]

As per the orders of Emperor Aleko Sendrakon, General Asimov Dunngard of the Old Empire faction has been officially released from custody and is en-route to be delivered to a small official force which will meet with the escort on neutral territory where the exchange will take place.

[Wealth +]

Come daylight, there was little that Aleko could do, but to put himself into motion and face another day. His body barely crept out of the bed, and when he did find himself standing on his own two feet, he would lag in every motion: it took him twice as much to bathe and gussy up, twice as much to pick suitable garments for himself to wear that day. He took a bit of his time to gaze upon his bare frame, noticing the rather jarring pairs of bags under his eyes, and the slightly sad state of his fur. But, even in this state, it looked rather decent, if at his healthiest it looked silky smooth. But even when he was done checking himself, his walk to the diner felt twice as long, and his meal arrived after an unreasonable amount of wait. As the heir sat alone, trying to chew away at his food with little to no interest and enthusiasm, tried to find the roots of this apparent exhaustion, seen as he didn't subject himself to enough physical effort for his body to slow down and ask for respite.

It has to be the lack of sleep, he first told himself, his blue orbs gazing emptily through the table while his jaw mechanically minced a toasted sandwich, but, I feel it's more than that. My mind would be sleepy and slow, but why does my body feel as if I've walked in full plate for months? Those strange happenings, they're getting to me.

When he did raise his gaze from the table, he took a moment to look around the dining area and its denizens, happily conversing to each other while they broke their fast with various hearty combinations of food, ranging from roasted bacon with fried eggs and a ladle of spinach, to still-hot scrambled eggs layered with melted cheese, served with crisp sausages coated with a spiced tomato sauce and brown beans. While the air was filled with mixed scents, Aleko didn't quite feel attuned to the cheery ambiance. If anything, he couldn't help but to notice how lonely he was, how he had no connection to anyone there other than through his rank and status; they all knew him as Emperor Aleko Farland Sendrakon, the first of his name, endearingly called Frosty. Yet, no one there really knew the entire meaning of this nickname he had been given, why so many referred to him like so; sure, the first thought that would come in one's mind is that his fur attracted the amusing name, but there has yet been one to invest time and try to communicate with "Frosty", to sit down with him at the table and talk anything else but the status of the Empire. Yet, there wouldn't be room for such pleasantries, as the reports for that day arrived, and they all looked quite favorable: the mage tree affair went just as he wanted it to go, as well as the whole Ice Troll infestation that bothered the dwarves. It was a rather nasty problem with many complications, but against the brute force of nature, at least double the ferocity was required to tone it down. Then, he found his snout to be plastered with a big smile as he read about the communicators being mass-produced and being already implemented for use by the military. While the passcode was rather out of place, and a tad predictable in his mind, it would work for now.

I will have to pay Gudwyn, Reginal and Tch... the lizard man a visit after I've talked to the envoys. Aleko thought as he delivered his half-empty plate to the server before he walked his way to the council chambers.

Again, he found it to be a way-too-long journey, the halls felt as though they had no end, but at some point, he managed to stumble inside the room rather groggily, and closed the doors behind him rather roughly. This time, the emperor had donned a scarlet long-sleeved doublet with a black sword embroidered upon the left side of his chest, a pair of black trousers snugged into a pair of similarly colored boots. Although he wore a lively color, he acquitted himself rather limply, as he slowly poured himself into his seat, with a silent sigh stifled through his nostrils. There was a sort of tension in the air, and for once, he thanked the stars for it being so, since he had a moment to close his eyes and have his brain rest for a couple of moments before he started to write his first sentences in his mind. When his cold, piercing gaze was unraveled by his eyelids, his long maw opened to talk.

"Before you present to me your matters of utmost importance, I'd like to point out that my stay has accumulated a fortnight. While, our steps were meager, in this timespan, we have managed to gain some strength and invest into our people, our military, and into vital research venues. Thus far, we've done decently. Fine work, my lady and gentlemen." He stared, his voice rather raspy and absent.

"Our focus now is to recover some of the currency we've invested into our initial plans. We'd might require to implement higher taxes and raise the price of our exports, since it would be ludicrous to disband our military when we're but a small force, or rescind our interest in research, for the sake of having our chests filled with gold. That prospect may sound rather abysmal to some, but right now, we're investing in the future. Having gold in the moment to spend away at nothings would prove to be a transient pleasure, at the cost of a permanent loss. Therefore, if I find any other plans brought to the table to be too costly, I'm afraid I will have to reject it."

The heir took a deep breath and stepped away from his chair, so that he could serve himself with a goblet full of water; once he dunked it down his gullet, he filled it again and promptly emptied it. Once he took his seat again, he deflated with a long sigh, his frost-laden gaze washing over every individual present in the chambers.

Fill me with your pity, then. He sourly thought. Or perhaps I think too highly of myself to deserve your sincere apologies and supportive thoughts? Well then. Let's see what business plans you wish to present.

"I'm listening."

Silence had fallen unto the heir's lips, as the envoys reacted in all sorts of interesting manners, from gasps, to shouts, to apparent apathy. His cold gaze was affixed unto the surface of the table, following the jagged reflections of the envoys present, as they animated and displayed various degrees of support and regret. But, Aleko's expression remained unchanged, until madame Shroudmyr pointed out a very important detail that did not cross his mind initially, if at all, since he had been too busy to reel from the mind-numbing news. He lifted his snout, his eyebrows rising while his tired cortex processed what the other hybrid meant to say.

We've a traitor. He thought, before Frosthand stated it out loudly.

He could feel a fiery dagger slowly dig itself into his bowels, which spread rage and hatred through his core. He found it unbelievable, that someone had found this sort of information and quickly sent it over to the Stainless Empire at such a short notice, in the span of a week. Every other word that followed would be the result of logical deduction, and the one conclusion that troubled him the most was the fact that it was a perfectly laid-out trap for him to fall into by acting on pure emotion, rather than rationally forging a machination to deal with the personal attack. But, how could he react logically to an attack that was meant to stir him, and have him react in one form or another? Let alone his mother being caught in the invasion, he shared memories with the folk he knew there, as well as the landscapes and the architecture of the province. And therein, Aleko found that he had an advantage, the fact immediately sparking a few ideas in his mind. The canine seemed to grow rather agitated as the envoys kept stirring and mumbling, becoming rather uneasy on his seat as he wanted to storm out into solitude and coalesce his transient thoughts into a plan. But, at the end, he felt the need to part with a few words. Unfortunately, his gesture wold turn to be rather crass, as he managed to topple the chair behind him as he pushed himself on his feet. Aleko winced at the sound and shook his head.

"I will accept master Weaverstar's incentive to closely investigate this outrageous act of mutiny. But, if any of you find a clue, a hint of sorts regarding the involvement in this betrayal, you are to report immediately." The heir dictated, while he pulled the chair from the ground and push it back in its place. "But, any form of bickering and false accusation will be punished. I want a serious investigation, and not an opportunity to boot out whomever you do not like. We're here for unity, above all. Godspeed."

But, the heir found no respite, as the human envoy made it jarringly obvious he had no implication with the treason, as he persistently confessed his sorrowful feelings towards the delicate issue. Aleko strode down towards the map room with his hands crossed to his back, his gaze washing over the floor as once again, the length of the corridor seemed to have doubled that day, as well as Gwynpath seeming to not stop blabbering. But, once they reached the entrance, the heir placed a hand upon the human's shoulder and offered it a limp tug.

"You have my thanks, master Gwynpath." Stated Aleko. "I... I need to speak to the generals and have a moment to recollect before I can think about other matters. But, consider yourself invited to a enjoy a coffee with me on the morrow."

Did I just? He questioned himself. Am I that lonely? I have just made myself vulnerable. The heir felt dread as he walked inside the map room, where he found the generals waiting for him.

"Generals." He promptly greeted them, as he made his way to his usual spot. There, he sighed and leaned against the surface with his palms. "We have a situation."

And reactions followed once he disclosed the details of the invasion. And they weren't favorable, as it would seem there was little that they could do about Zeiserberg without stirring unwanted attention, which would cut down the momentum of the counter. The province was far away too, thus reinforcements would be rather cumbersome to sail over. Every possible maneuver would put them at a major disadvantage, in such a manner that the advantages Aleko found would quickly pale. This was a deviously smart attack, that should rile him and mindlessly send his forces over to liberate the province and lose the fight against a defensive force; most likely, they counted on the Old Empire to jump at his troops and reduce the numbers before the Stainless could arrive and deliver a coup'd'grace. It seemed that choices were very slim, until, Cyrus made his appearance with a suggestion of his own.

Trying to make amends for your deception, you artifact? Aleko thought as he glanced at the wizard.

The halfling listened to it all, his teeth lightly grinding away at the new thoughts, while his fingers rubbed the bad ideas into oblivion. But, with so many eyes upon him, he couldn't focus, he couldn't have thoughts of his own. The heir took a moment to rub his eyes.

"I... the infiltrators, and forces. We-" he cleared his throat. "Allow me a moment." The halfling stormed out of the room, to head to the first latrine in his way, where he quickly dismantled himself unto his knees and retched down the stinking hole.

His entire frame arched and contorted as his innards refused to digest his breakfast, and hurled the mostly-intact meal down the hatch. By the time he could control the spasms, he found himself miserably sitting on the floor, his back resting against a wall while panting for some air. He tried to open his watered eyes, but the salt of his sweat stung him. After an attempt to clear his throat, he spat out more of the food down the hole, and calmed his breath down. Finally, he had the silence he required to plot, although the location wasn't the most appropriate. It didn't matter, patterns were forming, mechanisms clinked and clattered, as he mentally tried to outmaneuver his foes. When he could push himself up, he started to walk up and down the small chamber, in a rather erratic pattern, as his mind completely separated from its body to delve itself into strategy. Only when some worker accessed the latrine, did the Emperor wake from his meditative state and gawped at the intruder. He blinked and slithered out, offering his apologies to the man that wanted to use the chamber. It probably took him an hour or so to return, but when he did, he looked weaker still, although twice as determined.

"The fact that we can transport our troops inside the province in a matter of a week is what dismantles every bit of the Stainless's plan to crush our counterattacking forces." The heir quickly muttered as he walked back inside the room, and served himself with another cup of water to wash down the awful taste of bile.

"They counted on that I would give in to rage and dispatch troops immediately, with me spearheading the counteroffensive. They counted on the fact that it would take us at the very least three weeks to reach Zeiserberg, time in which they would have easily consolidated their defensive positions and reinforce their invasion forces; furthermore, they counted on the two provinces controlled by the Old Empire to shave off some of our numbers, as an opportunity to take revenge on Northspark. Deviously clever. And if it weren't for Master Weaverstar to cut my rage short, I would have definitely thrown myself into the fray, with little regards towards anyone's suggestions." He sighed, and swallowed dryly.

"The plan is as follows." He stretched his back. "Infiltrators are to prepare the teleportation ritual, but as I've suggested to general Planestalker, they will also attempt to sabotage the army and cut off their supplies and reinforcement lines. As such, they've enough tasks at hand, therefore, you may rescind the task of scouting for my mother." He could feel his torso squirm and send a cold chill through his hide. "As, for how the counterattack will go..." he cleared his throat, and proceeded to drink some more water.

"Firstly, I need to point out I know the province on the inside out. The Anthro lands are prone to wet weather, them being a mass of islands in a maritime temperate climate; while the province doesn't usually get hammered with bad weather too often, it produces an awful amount of muck and mud under heavy downpours. Combine that with the infiltrators cutting off supplies, it will significantly slow them down and make their stay a very unpleasant one. Since, they've been there for one week now, they wouldn't have amassed much of a force, and with another week of slow supplies and terrible weather, they will be properly weaken for us to storm over them."

"Granted, bad weather isn't a guarantee. Unless, we bring it upon them. Therefore, the first squad to make it through will be made of wizards. Their task is to stir the clouds into a constant thunderstorm and downpour, regardless of the risk of provoking floods. There's plenty of overcast and heavy clouds to shape and play with; now, this may not be quite ethical in some eyes, but is this open threat towards me and my mother made by a man with high moral standards?"

"Another point on having wizards there is that, most likely, the Stainless will have "borrowed" Anthro equipment by now; that means, lots of steel and wood. Standard troops against plate armor and high-end weaponry will not stand a chance, but if we were to assault steel with electrical bolts, and roast them inside their armor and melt their weapons with balls of fire..." he furtively glanced at Bulkwyn, feeling her gaze slitting his throat.

"... me being an elite ranger, a mage is the last thing I'd want to encounter. Or, one of my own men. As such, the second wave will comprise of Elite Rangers and Dwarven Grenadiers, with me and another general by my side. Why Rangers and Grenadiers? Zeiserberg holds no castle, or fort, it is a strictly urban and rural province with no lordly domain, and in such terrain, we're bound to fight in a lot of close-quarter situation, of not on open lands. In both cases, we need light, versatile and highly maneuverable troops, with the potential to deliver massive firepower. Grenades take out rooms and entire buildings, clear corners, corridors, streets even. Elite Rangers are used to muck and mud, and will fight from distance before storming occupied buildings with advanced weaponry to clear stragglers after the grenades have cleared most of the threats. Trenches are easy to clear with grenades, as well as with pyromancy. Open field fights can be shifted on our side with the help of the storms formed by the wizards, unleashing lightning upon the enemy. We will drive the enemy into the provinces held by the Old Empire, so that the stragglers will be finished off by them. Those who surrender? Gods be in their side, for I will not feel merciful."

"It may turn out to be a battle of attrition, as opposed the quick storm with which we took over Northspark, but we will be amply supplied by the people of Zeiserberg, especially if they will know it is me that leads the liberating force." Aleko took a moment to gulp and sit down, to rest his mind and mouth. He sighed, rubbed his jaw and grumbled.

"I know, they may have prepared for this type of counter, since they were smart enough to devise this trap, but I count on the fact that they do not expect us to arrive sooner than they would expect us. But, given our current situation, I believe they will soon learn of our trick, for I have been informed that a traitor lays in wait among us." The heir sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Master Weaverstar will handle this situation personally, no need to jump the horse. But if you sirs find a clue in regards to who is this cut-throat, you are to inform either me or him immediately."

"Now then. Three squads, one made of wizards that goes in first, the other two some time after they arrive. I will definitely join the attack. Who else wishes to join me?" He asked, while not looking at any of the generals in particular, but quite clearly avoiding Bulkwyn's presence. "And most importantly, have you better suggestions?"

With days quickly passing by unnoticed, the heir found himself rather overwhelmed with the amount of stress clambered unto his shoulders. Sure, it just seemed that the day of reckoning couldn't arrive yet, but at the same time, he would realize in stupefaction that another day and night has passed without finding motivation to prepare himself for the liberation of his home province. As if it were not enough, he had knowledge of mutiny; that alone would put any nobleman on his toes, never mind all of the other issues that just seem to pool up. Even the sleeping draught couldn't help him find some sort of comfort, as his nights were still crept and stalked upon by night terrors.

It helped him, to some extent, that he took the next day to refrain from undergoing any strenuous duty that would push him into exhaustion. The talk he had with the human envoy was a pleasant welcome, since he had to keep his snout shut most of the time, and only drive his answers wherever he wanted, much like a relaxed interrogation. To that, madame Shroudmyre had to add her own story, so she could leave just as a good impression as Marcus. Aleko barely had to say anything again, as he slowly followed the woman just with his gaze. He rubbed his own nose a few times as he felt his focus slip several times, even more so when the woman's own piercing gaze seemed to just shamelessly penetrate his intimacy; clearly, she was a devious creature, willing to use dirty tricks to gain favor and personal winnings, even if it meant that she would use womanly charms on a young heir.

I am so curious, how your eyes might look like with that pretty, and venomous mouth of yours, wrapped around my- but his derivative, and taboo thoughts, are interrupted the realization that she just talked mostly non-sense.

"Yet, you've told me nothing of your allegiance. Of history, I am knowledgeable, as well as master Gwynpath, I am sure." He stated in a relaxed tone, blinking slowly before he took another sip out of his coffee.

Then came her answer, followed by her ever more penetrative gaze, which Aleko could only fall into. Be the time she retired in her seat to take her own sip, he found himself craving more of her eyes. He won his composure back as he was asked him about his own journey. Although reluctant at first to say anything about himself, being sure that they knew exactly what he was before, he could only find it fair of him to share as well. He wouldn't want to nurture a one-way relationship with his servants, he could at least try to pretend that it's two-way.

"Let me assure you that my story is as boring as it can be." He started in a rather unenthusiastic manner. "Son of a noble woman cast away by her family and husband as my visage did not resemble my, presumably, anthro heritage. My childhood and youngster years were spent at home, reading, writing and learning the knightly art of combat. Come deployment age, I've impressed the recruiters that handed me over to the Rangers. Given my noble descent and the volume of lore I've learned, I was to become an officer. Said and done, years pass, I'm tasked to offer security in civil war-torn cities, skirmish the lands of separatist nobles, the usual grunt work elite rangers do. Why not send plain knights and men-at-arms? One of us is a dozen times more dangerous; that's because of our equipment and trained unwillingness to chatter. If we're there to keep you out of the plaza so important people can meet, you'd be utterly foolish and suicidal to dare touch us."

"Then, the War of Tulips arrived. Very far away from home, I am aware, but the king most likely has some very strong relations with the merchants and traders in Eagleblade, else, he wouldn't have sent us to sweep the castle clean and clear the river for ships to sail." Aleko had long stopped drinking his coffee, his eyes peering into the undulating reflection of his canine snout. "Some of the rumors you might have heard are untrue, we're not ghosts that walk through walls, or ghouls to slit throats during one's sleep. If it were that easy, there would be no war to fight, would it be?" He chuckled sourly. "But it wasn't easy. If anything, it's the third most difficult thing I've ever had to deal with in my short life. Second place is taken by me trying to talk to this pretty merchant's daughter into a dance ball once. That's something I'd rather not recollect, hmhm."

"First place is taken by this. I'm sorely unprepared for this ample task I've been given, to rule an empire. But, as a good, obedient soldier, I will complete the objective to the best of my ability. I don't mean to discourage you, but I want to be transparent about this issue. I'm not the foreseen savior of Avalon, foretold by some prophecy written and starts, or whatever mad rambling is out there. No. Look at me." He stood up, lifting his arms slightly.

"What you see, a young mutt with a ton of power under his heel, is what you get. Take it the way it is, or leave. I don't mind either. Help me, rewards will be found for us all to reap. Leave me, I will bid farewell and good luck on your endeavors. Betray me, I'll gut you like a damn fish with a blunt knife in front of your families, personally." He allowed that warning to settle in, before he clasped his hands behind his back.

The conversation soon ended.

By the time the twentieth day of his mandate arrived, the heir could hold up on his feet quite well, although he could still feel some weights pulling his shoulders down due to fatigue. He quickly learned that the teleportation site had been completed, and the wizards have arrived to sink the province. Quite content with the news, Aleko finally showed some sort of emotion after three days of apathy, through a lopsided smirk on his canine maw.

"Thoroughly so, master Weaverstar." He replied to his court wizard.

For his own fortitude and capabilities, Aleko started to condition his body through whatever workout he could complete in his own quarters, honing his muscles and senses to peak performance. Then, he asked for a training pell, a blunt longsword and blunt dagger, so he could put his body to work while he practiced tactics in his mind. Steel whirled as he swung the waster around his frame, throwing debilitating cuts at the training pole with measured force and great speed. He properly knocked the dust out of the material, as loud thuds filled his room, as the steel edge impacted the pell. Still not satisfied, he asked for someone to help him suit up in his steel harness, to add combat realism; after all, he wouldn't be going in a doublet on the battlefield. His endurance was put to stress, as he had to cope with significant loss of mobility and some more weight unto his body; still, his strikes were true and quick, transitioning from time to time to placing one hand on the blade of the sword and train as if he were facing an armored opponent. He nurtured his body's needs, but for the most part, he secluded himself in his quarters, to focus on his condition. He couldn't allow emotion to overcome him during the fight, he had to keep himself sharp. He was so determined to stay so, that he asked some guards for a few bouts with blunt weapons, shifting from one-to-one combat, to formation techniques. By the time the fateful day arrived, he felt unsatisfied with his progress, but pleasantly sore and ripe for a fight. He could feel rage churn, just ready to lash out and take the lives of those who dared to defy him personally.

He had his arming jacket and trousers on, as well as the steel leggings, sabatons, knee protectors. He reached the war room, carrying an arming cap in one hand, while in the other he had all of his weaponry tied together by leather belts and buckles. Servants quickly arrived after with the rest of his battle harness, and started to fit them unto the heir.

"How're conditions in Zeiserberg?" Aleko calmly asked, his icy gaze shining with murderous intent. "As soon as I'm in my armor and with my armament on, I'm good to go. Any developments during the night, any reports at all?"

Whatever answers might arrive, he was more than ready to take them, since he was prepared to walk under the undiscriminating eyes of death, on a field that would be his domain. Yet, he knew that he wouldn't fall during this task, for his heart wouldn't let him. It was about time he's done something as a gesture of gratitude to the one person that made him what he is today, a woman that sacrificed everything for the love of her child.

Mom. Stay put and smart, I'm coming in and I'll kill them all. I swear, I will make them suffer thousandfold if they've laid a finger upon you.