The great Dictator of the Tundra sat heavily at his wobbly throne. His ears filled with banter and shouts and arguments across the chamber before him as many advisers spewed filth from their mouth towards him. His crown slumped to the side as his cheek sank deeper to the knuckle of his clenched hand. A chilled wind whipped across the stone walls and flickered the dimly lit candles of the room. As the men continued talking, rolling parchment out, and fiercely stabbing at locations upon maps and arguing with one another, the man would lift his hand and a hush would fall upon the chamber. Many moments would pass as the advisers and noblemen of each house stood to listen to what he had to say.
Slowly, he would rise, his face solemn and grave, pale in contrast to its merry appearance not many weeks prior. His heavy brows would shadow his eyes as his hand left his cheek and he sat straight before the men.
"Brothers," he would begin, though those in the room knew they were not always equal and the term was used faintly. "I hear your pleas, I hear your concerns. My advisers, hold your tongue as I speak, as I shall clear these false claims and accusations with one fell-swoop of my words. These men of the Coalition, what have we done to them? On two occasions, mark you, two occasions we have attacked their traders in our territory. We have clearly stated our intentions of trade, and made it known. The man we held captive, what was his name.." he would pause a moment and continue, "Sir AdalWulf of the Holy Roman Empire, ah yes. The man whom plundered goods from a fief without request and then attempted to flee to the mountains."
He would stand, his heavy fur-ridden boots barely held up by thin straps wrapped around his toned calves as his fur shawl fell to the floor and dragged behind him. "There was no compensation for this, I am afraid. I had thought it were made clear of the mistake they made." his hand would reach to a bowl of water on a nearby stand and he would begin to run his hands through it. "The other, a man whom approached our gates of Yruma, sodden with goods we ourselves could not make way in our economy to purchase. What did we do? We reached out, for near half a day to many of these Fallen clan, only to be directed to their near settlement, in which no reply was ever given in due time. I gave the order to attack, we took the man captive, and held his cargo.
"We held this, all 2,000 kilos or so of goods, for some time, awaiting them to arrive. Then, we have been set upon by the Free Companies. A move we long foresaw, but were grimly unprepared for. I was told that the Lord of Yruma in haste to prepare himself for this war sold some kilos of goods, a near thirty percent or so, to which I sent my apologies to the Fallen clan nearby. We have offered to ship them three hundred of our finest goods, and have already returned the goods as well as allowed these men to take use of our mercantile network since this took place."
He would stop a moment, cupping water in the bowl and splashing it to his face to wash himself. A sharp breath of air escaped his dry, cracked lips as he stood front again. "We have been fair to these men, we have opened our doors to them, we have sent our finest warriors to aid them in battle even against long standing good relationships with the men of Chaos. And these men, with nothing in their eyes except greed and false-pretense march upon us? What cowards." he would say as he sauntered back to the throne and placed himself upon it, his fur shawl practically melting over the sides.
Discontent filled the room as noblemen shifted uneasily in their seats and their squires tended to them. Advisers, once angry with banter now saw their lord truly frightened.
"We have barely enough food to ration for four establishments, yet we attempt to feed the mouths in nine. Our men, more than we have to clothe, will soon fight naked with nothing but stone and stick against a foe much better suited than ourselves. Our horses are slaughtered to feed starving troops, and the dead stripped of what they have to aid those still living. These are dark times my brothers.. dark times." His large hairy hand would caress half his face as his good eye peered out between parted fingertips. "Let them come. Our men will fall. Talks of peace are beyond us now. I had sworn to these Fallen men even the claim to Ulburban when our foothold was reclaimed. But it is of no use, they want more."
He would motion to a man to the side who brought forth parchment, ink, and quill and lowered himself before the Dictator. "Write as I have said," he would say before lowering his hand to rest upon his lap and face the nobles and advisers. "Those of you whom stay, you will parish alongside me. Our steel is not the strength it once was brothers. I have failed to prepare us for the Winter, and I will fight to my dying breath with grievance in my soul for doing so. To the west, the passage is foul, but new life exists beyond those mountains. The Knights of the Tundra will soon see our demise, and any man whom shall falter with not see themselves hunted nor their heirs be persecuted. I leave to you this, stand with me, and die with honor, or flee as you will and take nothing with you but the memory of what brave men and Knights will be buried beneath this Tundra."
