A general born to rule

The tension rise

Out in the far reaches of the GoldStar Empire, Orisi XV waged a campaign marked by brutality. The latest to fall under his ambitions were the demi-human tribes—a proud, diverse people scattered across small, loosely allied territories. Known for their strength, independence, and respect for the land, they were no strangers to hardship. But Orisi XV’s forces arrived like a storm, with no regard for life or legacy. Soldiers stormed villages, tore through defenses, and left scorched earth in their wake.

In one village, Orisi XV stood at the center, surveying the aftermath of his latest conquest. Bodies lay strewn about, and any survivors were dragged to him, hands bound and eyes hardened with defiance. He smirked, the light in his eyes as cold as steel.

"Your resistance is admirable, but ultimately meaningless," Orisi XV sneered as he looked down at the village elder, an elderly wolf-like demi-human, his fur matted and eyes blazing with pride and rage.

“We may fall, but others will rise,” the elder spat. “You will never crush our spirit.”

Orisi laughed, shaking his head. "You think spirit is enough to stand against steel and fire? I am the future, old one. You and your people—” he gestured to the scene around them, “—are relics. In my empire, the strong rule, and the weak submit."

He gave a cold nod to his captain, who dragged the elder away as Orisi turned to his advisors. “No mercy. Break them entirely. Ensure that no one remembers they even had strength,” he ordered, a dark satisfaction in his voice. His methods weren’t merely about conquest; they were about extinguishing any trace of resistance, erasing the very heart of his enemies so that no hope could survive his shadow.

Meanwhile, back in the Reynard Empire, word of Orisi’s merciless campaign had reached Reynolds. In the grand war room of Reynard’s capital, Reynolds, Sam, and Marcus sat around a massive oak table. Maps and reports lay scattered before them, detailing the growing aggression from the GoldStar Empire.

“The reports are worse than I feared,” Reynolds said grimly, eyes fixed on a document detailing Orisi’s conquest of the demi-human tribes. “He’s not just expanding—he’s leaving nothing but ash and ruin behind him. It’s clear that Orisi XV is building a new empire by any means necessary. And he’s setting his sights wider with every victory.”

Sam, leaning over the table, nodded in agreement. “At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before he turns his attention to us and our allies. We can’t just sit and wait for him to knock at our borders.”

Marcus crossed his arms, his expression steely. “Agreed. He’s got the GoldStar Empire’s full might behind him, and his followers are loyal out of fear rather than choice. If we don’t act now, his power will only continue to grow.”

Reynolds considered their words, then said, “We need allies—strong ones. Durstasi, Zepard, and AmbarAnak have stood by us before, and with them, we have a chance of holding back GoldStar’s advance.”

Sam nodded. “An alliance might not only bring us military support but also intelligence and resources that could give us an edge. We’re looking at a unified front across the landmass, with shared defenses and strategies. It’s ambitious, but necessary.”

Reynolds leaned forward, his gaze resolute. “Then it’s settled. I’ll send word to each kingdom and propose a formal alliance. We’ll need to be prepared for anything Orisi might throw at us.”

Marcus spoke up, “Valorcrest’s military is at the ready. We’re ramping up training and outfitting our forces with the latest advancements in weaponry. Our navy and air support are on standby to cover the coastlines and skies.”

Sam added, “We should also consider reinforcing the borders with fortifications and strategically placed outposts, especially near the territories Orisi has targeted.”