THE GRAND OLD

PART 2: AMBITION

THE GRAND OLD
PRESENTED BY DEFLUX STUDIOS

The war council convened in the grand throne room, the heavy oak table scarred from centuries of use. Generals in polished armor, their faces lined from years of battle, sat alongside lords in fine silks, their eyes gleaming with calculation.

At the head of the table, King Theodorus surveyed his warriors and advisors, his gaze lingering on each face. "My friends," he began, his voice echoing off the stone walls, "the time for words is ending. Our siblings will not be content to let Southern Valeria flourish in peace. We must decide how to protect all we have built...and how to ensure our future."

A murmur ran through the room, a rustling of parchment as generals unfolded maps, their fingers tracing the borders of the fractured empire. Lord Arin, seated at the king's right hand, spoke first.

"Your Majesty, our advantage lies in our wealth and the cunning of our people. We cannot match Prince Farengar's legions in open battle, nor the senate's endless coffers. But we can use their aggression against them. I propose we fund rebels in Western Valeria, fuel dissent among Farengar's own troops. Let him bleed himself dry putting down uprisings."

Theodorus nodded thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing. "I like this. But the East is a different beast altogether. Empress Lava's senate will not be swayed by arms or gold so easily."

Lord Ryker, a grizzled old general, spoke up, his voice like the rasp of a sword from its sheath. "The senate thinks itself above the fray, but it is not immune to pressure. I say we impose tariffs on all goods from Eastern Valeria. Let their precious merchants feel the squeeze of the senate's greed. They will turn on their puppet empress soon enough."

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices, each lord and general proposing their own strategies. Theodorus listened to all, his mind turning each idea over like a gemstone in the light.

But as the council drew to a close, one figure remained silent. Lord Harrold, a man as cunning as a snake and twice as deadly, sat at the foot of the table, his eyes glinting in the torchlight.

"Lord Harrold," Theodorus said finally, his voice cutting through the din, "you have been quiet. What is your counsel? You have ever been my most...creative advisor."

Harrold bowed his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "My king, the others would strike at our enemies with steel or silver. But I would play a different game. Let us forge alliances, not with lords or generals, but with the powers that lurk in the shadows. The bandit clans of Eboncrest, the nomadic tribes of the Dustum Khanate...they have no love for the West or the East. Let us promise them land, gold, and the freedom to rule themselves. They will be our swords, my king. And when the dust settles, we will be the ones left standing."

The room fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the warriors. Theodorus leaned forward, his eyes locked on Harrold, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"I like this," he purred, his voice dripping with anticipation. "Let us forge a new kind of empire, one built not on legions, but on ambition and desire. Let our siblings exhaust themselves on the battlefields. We will be the ones pulling the strings from the shadows. And when the time is right...we will strike, and the world will be reborn in our image."

And with that, the fate of Southern Valeria was sealed. The council dispersed, each man tasked with his part in the grand design. Theodorus sat back in his throne, a cold satisfaction spreading through his chest.

The game of empires had begun, and only time would tell who would sit on the throne when the dust finally settled. But one thing was certain - only one of the three siblings of House Ostricia would survive to claim the mantle of Valeria. The rest would be but footnotes in the annals of history.

And so, the king sat in his cool, dark palace, surrounded by the whispering shadows, and smiled. For in the game of thrones, only the most ruthless would reign supreme. And Theodorus, king of the south, was a man who would stop at nothing to ensure his legacy endured forever.