The youngest prince of a fallen nation, the last of the royal family. Kiel was always the least gifted, the least special. Now he finds himself tasked with rebuilding the Kievian Kingdom from the ground up. Faced with the threats of the Langa Empire...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Amber flames licked the sky as the palace burned. The normally cool night air was drowning in a blistering heat. Corpses dotted the grassy fields, new bodies falling as silhouetted figures swung their weapons. Kiel sat in the grass gawking at the carnage, eyes hot and mind confused.
The people of The Theocracy were cruel to Kievians, not unlike most countries in modern times. Hate flowed from the royals and those in power, most people had never even visited Kievia. Prejudice based on what they were told, no one cared about the truth.
"Kievia ruled the world... What happened." Staring into his mug, Kiel's thoughts ran unabated once again.
"Aye, so now that you're done blabberin' are you gonna pay for that?" The middle aged, scruffy tavern owner spoke in a disinterested tone. Small, bristled hairs stuck out of his large jutting chin.
"Hey now, that's no way to treat a customer! Oh the service industry these days!" Kiel spun his body away from the bar counter and around toward the busy dining floor. The walls were made of a rough type of wood, but were in decent shape. The swirls of wood grain were dyed a deep shade by the mead and wood smoke flying through the air over the long years. A slightly sour smell drifted through the air, but was easily overpowered by the strong savory scent of meat pies cooking in the kitchen. The tavern exuded a cozy atmosphere and had become a frequent stop for Kiel soon after he arrived in Iriel. The drink was cheap and the food wasn't pig swill like most other back alley taverns. Krom, the owner of the bar, had become quite tired of seeing Kiel's face, or so he said. I think he enjoys my continued patronage and entertaining conversation. Kiel smiled inwardly. As if he could hear his thoughts, Krom gave Kiel a glance and sighed as he entered the kitchen door behind him.
After some time passed, Kiel flipped a couple copper onto the rough wood counter and slipped out of his seat. The disfigured coppers made a metallic noise as they missed their mark by mere inches and struck the floor beside the counter. With easygoing steps Kiel made his way through the tables strewn about and towards the heavy oak door. Careful not to disturb the jolly moods of others around him, Kiel passed by without a sound. When the door was within arms-reach, a deep voice stopped Kiel mid-step.
"Hold it, that's you isn't it Kiel." Turning around to see who spoke to him, a large armored man with a smirk on his face entered Kiel's vision. "I've been lookin' for you pal, almost seemed like you were avoiding me! Of course I don't believe that for a second!" The large man grinned, showing a large row of black and yellow teeth.
A deep sigh escaped Kiel's mouth as he jotted between the tables. "Hey there Frail! Man, it's been so long! How've you been buddy ol' pal!" Kiel put on a delighted tone. Frail stood head and shoulders above Kiel, his shadow eclipsing the lantern light. Frail wore heavy plate armor over his rippling chest and over it wore a tight brown cloth shirt over top. Below Frail's ridiculous torso was his even stranger leg wear. Frail wore no real pants, just two large pieces of leather stitched together on each leg to make his massive muscle mass visible.
