Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Silence passedon through the tent, some wanted to speak, but one look at the boy at the ground and one look to the emperor, certainly made many mouths shut close.

Some stared at the boy in pity, other instead simply ignored it , yet above all one common thought was shared

’Damn fool did you live under a rock?’

It was common knowledge that the mere mention of the mercenary company’s name in front of the emperor was strictly forbidden. Just thirty years ago, at the battle of the falling eagle, the entire empire trembled as the ground shook beneath their feet. The previous sultan of Azania had thrown his support behind a rebel against the powerful Empire of Rolmia, causing the empire to fall in a state of civil unrest due to a succession crisis within one of its most influential houses - the ’Kantazoukones’. Two twins both vied for the title of ’Authorite Pater’ and control over their noble family. Arlion the late-comer, was forced to flee into Azania with his life in danger from assassins hired by his own brother. After three long years, he returned with an army of hired swords, recruited and funded by the previous Sultan Farfah II. Who however saw it as an opportunity to sow chaos and discord within the empire - it didn’t matter who emerged victorious as long as there were heavy casualties on both sides.

The two armies stood at attention, facing each other like opposing forces of nature. Arlion, the leader of the hired companies, knew that his smaller and less disciplined army would crumble under the full might of the imperial army. But he had a plan, one that was daring and dangerous. He would use their enemy’s own pride and rashness against them.

He placed his most elite unit in the center, making it seem vulnerable with exposed flanks. The soldiers marched forward, carrying a banner depicting an eagle with its head cut off. It was a blatant insult to the emperor, known for his courage and hot temper. And it worked like a charm. The enraged emperor took the bait and charged forward with his fellow hot-headed nobleman and their fierce clibanarii cavalry. The ground shook under the thundering hooves of hundreds of horses as they galloped towards their doom. Only 120 out of 800 soldiers emerged from the reckless charge alive.

The incident was later dubbed ”the charge of fools”, as the emperor failed to see through Arlion’s trap.During the battle Aerlion army purposefully gave ground and distanced the emperor from his allies , hidden troops sprang out from bushes and surrounded the emperor’s group which failed to detect the trap. They fought valiantly but were ultimately defeated. The first to fall was the emperor himself, a spear piercing his chest before he could even realize what had happened.

And in a cruel twist of fate, it was none other than ”the Order of the Betrayed” who claimed the head of their former ruler. As for the emperor’s son, upon seeing his father’s head displayed triumphantly by his enemies, he flew into a rage and charged forward with everything he had left. The plan had succeeded in its main objective - to kill or capture the ruling family - but it came at a heavy cost as the young heir led a fierce and desperate charge to avenge his father’s death.

Amidst the chaos and bloodshed of battle, the new emperor Gratios I fought valiantly. But his bravery came at a cost - a sword pierced through his hand, tearing through flesh and bone. The wound would later become infected, forcing the removal of his hand in order to save his life. As the battle raged on, it became clear that victory was not on Aerlon’s side .He attempted to flee but was soon captured and brought before the emperor. And as a final act of revenge, Arleon’s head was mounted on a pike just beside where the emperor himself lay slain by his own hand.

The bloody vendetta between the Empire’s ruling dynasty and the Order of the Betrayed though ran even deeper, tracing back centuries. Legend held that the company’s founder was once a noble, his family brutally purged by the Imperial family the ’Krotatos’ 150 years prior. Along with other surviving nobles from the purge , he banded together to form the company, fueled by a burning desire for revenge and restoration of their fallen dynasties. Even now, most of the commanders were direct descendants of those exiled nobles, clinging onto hope of reclaiming their rightful lands and exacting retribution upon their enemies.

And all of this was common knowledge among the nobles of the empire, or at least they thought as the battered figure of one of them was proof that apparently, it wasn’t.

”GET OUT OF MY FACE, BEFORE I TAKE YOUR HEAD!” Gratios bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls of the commanding tent. His hand instinctively ran through his hair, trying to calm himself as he struggled to contain his anger.

Taking deep breaths, he forced himself to calm down as the moaning figure of the young noble slinked out of the tent in shame.

The other men in the tent remained silent, none daring to speak up or oppose their emperor’s wrath.

The tense silence was broken by Gratios, his voice booming with fury and determination as he rose from his throne-like chair. With purposeful strides, he approached the group of nobles before him, his eyes blazing with hatred.

”Thirty years ago, we suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of lowly commoners who would sell their own wives for a handful of coins,” he snarled, his hand clenching into a tight fist. ”But now, the God-Warrior has granted us the opportunity for revenge, and I will gladly take it with my own hands.”

His words were met with eager nods from the other nobles, knowing exactly what the next part meant for them. ”It is time to pay those bastards back for their insult,” Gratios declared, his grip tightening on his sword. ”I will personally purge their company of every soldier fighting under that despicable banner they still display.”

The plan had initially been simple - amass gold and flee the principality. But now, with their honor trampled upon by the Arlanian prince there was no coming back

”Arlania shall become true Imperial land once again,” Gratios roared, his sword unsheathed as the other nobles followed suit.

”And it is time for new nobles to rise in this forsaken land - true Nobles of the Empire of Rolmia!” Their battle cries echoed throughout the halls as they prepared to go to war.

”For Rolmia! For the Emperor! For the Empire!” They shouted in unison, their voices filled with bloodlust and vengeance. It was no longer about gold or power - it was about reclaiming their dignity and restoring their rightful place in the world. This was not just a battle - it was a declaration of war—finally, a proper war.