Andrilison

The cursed day

In the Capital of Andrilison, City Andrilison, stands a throne. Stone but draped in red carpet and banners as to distinguish the splendour of the kingdom. Its stone arches and polished floors line hundreds of feet of the throne room. Embedded in parts of the floor beside the walkway are sealed coffins, displaying the names of the kings of old. Dating back all the way from Lord Andrilison, his name live on, to an empty space for the Supreme Lord. In the empty space sits dirt with a cherry blossom tree in it. Each pink petal to fall reminds Lord Jason of the frailty of life. Today in particular was this thought in his mind. He sat with tears welling up in his eyes. It was a national day of mourning for the nation.

Four years ago...

A frantic knocking on oak. A call slicing through the dawning air. 

"Help!" 

Keepers and shoppers alike in the market looked up to the castle window. Guards gleaming in polished armour grasped the flailing blades at their hips as they sprinted up the tower stairs to the call of the Lord. 

"My lord was is wrong?" panted the Captain of the Guard.

"The Lady has no response to my calls," responded Lord Jason.

The guards drew their swords and one handed his to the Lord. "On my mark!" He nodded and took a step back and charged at the door, putting as much force into it with his shoulder. The lock buckled and the door rebounded into the men moving in. Each man gasped and fell into shock. In the bed was a withered corpse looking decomposed for thousands of years. Breathless the Lord fell to his knees with a thud. "How could this be?" asked the grieving Lord to the heavens.

"Shut down the city!"

"Yes my lord." A horn blasted throughout the alleys and streets. At the outer gates, soldiers snapped to attention and pulled levers clattering the gates to the ground. For the next fortnight there was no movement in or out but the assassin wasn't found.

Since that fateful day, the date had been cursed. "This year is the year the curse breaks," sighed Lord Jason. An envoy flanked by guards pattered into the throne room. "I have an urgent call for aid from the City of Vitrea!" they declared. He pressed his head into his hands.

Surrounded in the council chamber by five other Lords of Andrilison they pondered the concept of sending aid. They bounced the ideas around for a few hours before finally coming to the conclusion they would send a half-legion to help Vitrea as well as an envoy to Lewisia to ask whether they would help.

"I'll send for an envoy to call up that half-legion," the Lord of Might said standing.

"I too, we need a lot of ships for 10,000 men." agreed the Lord of the Waves.

"My Lord," a servant said turning to Lord Jason, "shall I send for an envoy to Lewisia?"

"No thank you. I will go there myself, could do with a journey to stretch my legs a bit." he replied.