November 29, five years after the Treaty of the Confluence
A small town in Northern Renora
In the far north of the Subreddit, it was said that every man with even a shred of common sense would carry two things with him at all times: a cloak and a knife. Protection from the cold, and from bandits, two very immediate threats.
Despite having both, the traveler advancing over the nearly-frozen hills felt a sense of impending doom.
He could barely see the road in front of him, so encrusted was it in frost. The winds, which had briefly given way to a moment of calm, renewed their assault as the traveler made his way over the edge of the hill.
The man lifted a gloved hand over his eyes as the town came into view. It was a small, boring town, probably devoted either to lumber or fishing, but there was a man there he needed to talk to.
He descended down the path into town. What few townsfolk were not in the taverns so late in the evening were already on their way, and they gave the foreigner little mind.
He paced down the alleys for a bit, his hands growing numb. At last, he found his destination: The Drunkard's Respite, fit with a caricature of an alcoholic slumping over a barrel of beer. The traveler shook his head disapprovingly and entered the tavern.
He walked through the crowded bar, ignoring the loud minstrels and patrons that assaulted his weary senses. The foreigner ducked down a hallway in the back, coming face-to-face with a rather rough-looking man.
They locked eyes for a couple tense seconds. Finally, the rough one smiled.
"Why was the war won without being fought?"
The traveler sighed. "Because strength will fail where wit does not."
The bodyguard nodded, opening the door for the traveler. With a nod, the man walked in, bodyguard in tow.
In the lightly furbished room sat a man in a nondescript white mask, its only defining features being two eyeholes. The Mask beckoned for the man to sit.
"Rasera." The Mask spoke in a deep, guttural tone. "Leave us."
The bodyguard nodded silently, exiting the room and closing the door behind him. The Mask nodded.
"A pleasure," the Mask said. He extended his hand in greeting. "Might I inquire as to your name? It's always good to make acquaintances."
"Forgive me, my good sir, but I have important news to deliver." The foreigner remained still, a quiet impatience in his eyes.
"Hmmph. Very well." The Mask folded his arms on the table. "I find it's best to start business transactions with pleasantries. My contact outside the borders was quite insistent on you meeting with me. What do you have to say that could be so important, Vulpix?"
Vulpix took off his cloak and removed a small sigil of a rose. He placed it on the table and met the Mask's gaze.
"I've lived outside the borders for several years. I've seen what life is like outside the Subreddit. Most of it is nondescript, but then I found a new threat, unlike any the Subreddit has seen before." He leaned in ominously. "The Church of Thorns."
Though Vulpix could not see it, he knew that statement had make the Mask smirk.
"The Church of Thorns? They're a wayward religious faction, a nuisance at best. There are more people in this county than there are in their entire Church."
"I knew you'd say that," Vulpix responded flatly. "That's why these letters are so important. There are thousands of them, outside the borders. They'll trickle in, start a slow burn. Already, their leaders consort with the highest levels of power here. We must stop them."
The Mask picked the sigil up gently, eyeing it for a few seconds. He clicked his tongue.
"Why come to me? Surely it'd be easier for you to present this to the nobles of the realm?"
"Perhaps," Vulpix conceded. "But I know you can work against the Church in ways most can't. I know you won't destroy them, but you can weaken them, open them up to a killing blow."
The Mask nodded. "You never struck me as someone who would play the long game. I respect that." He placed the sigil on the table. "You will have my support, but only because I stand to profit."
Vulpix smiled a weary smile. "Such is the way of the world." He grabbed his cloak. "Thank you for your time."
"Anytime," the Mask said. "Knowledge is always good to have. If you're looking for an inn, ask Rasera. He knows a couple cozy spots."
Vulpix nodded, and he opened the door to leave.
"One more thing." The Mask caught Vulpix's attention, and the former general turned to face him.
"Lose the accent. You sound like an Outlander. And you know how the saying goes..."
"There's no greater folly than to trust a man with an accent." Vulpix laughed grimly. "That comes from Arkos, you know."
Vulpix shut the door behind him, walking out of the tavern and into the night.
April 2, six years after the Treaty of the Confluence
Inferno Castle, Duchy of Greater Pollination, Kingdom of Pollination
Queen Inferno CLXVIII was in quite an abrasive mood. Over the course of three and a half weeks, there had been no less than two heretical uprisings and three attempted murders in her court, one of which had been directed at her. Of course, the assassins had all been captured, tortured for information and executed, and the traitorous elements either rooted out or about to be rooted out, but that didn't brighten her mood. On the contrary: the thought that there might be more traitors hiding in her ranks frightened her deeply.
The queen paced down the halls, her footsteps clacking powerfully against the hard stone floor. The castle guards observed her not with the barely concealed lecherousness they usually did, but with deferential fear. She was forty, yes, but she still had the youthful beauty many of her courtiers did not. The guards often, and not too quietly, made lecherous remarks, knowing their queen had better things to do than reprimand them. On this day, though, they knew any wayward glance or comment could cost them their lives.
As she plodded into her throne room, her marshal Jay stood up to greet her, looking both confused and slightly irritated. Inferno smiled sarcastically and gestured theatrically for him to speak.
"Well, Jay? Have you anything to brighten my day? News of a new heresy erupting, perhaps? Another assassin caught stalking the walls? No, wait. It couldn't be that good." She paused. "Smallpox or consumption? Which broke out now?"
Jay coughed uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck.
"You have visitors, my lady."
Inferno laughed. Visitors? Thank the pantheon it wasn't something worse.
"Oh, good. Tell them to leave. I have too much on my mind to entertain visitors."
Jay glanced to the side. "I don't think you can, my lady."
Inferno laughed in indignant surprise. "Who the hell do they think they are? This is my kingdom! Tell them to leave before I send them to the chopping block!"
"They're already here, my lady. They're sitting in the Council chambers."
Inferno's look of sudden, angry shock was quickly masked by a glance of cold disappointment. Jay shrank a little as his queen exhaled, clearly irritated.
"Very well. There's no point in turning them away now, is there?" Inferno's voice was laced with venom, and she was prowling down the hall towards the Council chamber before Jay had a chance to defend himself.
As Jay advanced nervously to her side, she threw open the doors and was greeted by four impatient faces. One of them, clad in a gold-laced gray tunic and similarly styled breeches, lifted his head and spoke.
"Ah, Queen Inferno. Our kindest regards. Forgive the intrusion, but we were quite eager to speak with you." He smiled a wide, unassuming smile, but his eyes belied a deeper, concerning cunning.
Inferno was taken aback by the man's urbane nature, but soon remembered her previous irritation.
"Who the hell are you people? And why are you in my castle?" She leaned on the Council table, her indignation clear. "Out with it!" she added, unnecessarily.
The tallest and youngest of the lot turned to face her, clad in red-tinted armor and towering over the rest of them by at least four inches. "We came to you with a proposition, my lady. I assure you, you don't want to pass this up."
He took a step toward Inferno, unassumingly. In response, Jay drew his scimitar and angled it at the armor-clad man. The red-armored man drew his broadsword in response and stood uncomfortably still, neither of them wanting to make the first move.
Inferno paid them no heed. "You haven't answered my question. Who are you people?"
One of them, a man dressed in the red and gold robes of the Enabler Triumvirs, stepped forward and gestured placatingly. "My friend, we meant no insult, nor did we mean to...irritate your servant." Jay flashed him a scowl before returning his watchful gaze to the red-clad one. "We only wanted to speak with you." He looked briefly at the man who had spoken first, who nodded.
"I am Triumvir Faker of Enabler. The man your servant there is quarrelling with is our Champion Jannis. This man here is Scion Zissman and that quiet lady over there is Anti, a merchant-baroness from the court of Ladybug." Zissman stroked his beard and nodded, while Anti flashed a quick grin in Inferno's direction. Jannis remained deadlocked with Jay.
Inferno stood fully upright, feeling much more secure. "Very well. If you've chosen to give up the advantage of anonymity, you must really want my support." She turned to Jay. "For gods' sakes, put the scimitar down." After a moment of brief unease, Jay complied.
"What do you want?" the queen asked.
"To spread our message of salvation to the people of your Subreddit," Zissman answered. "Our followers are growing in number and influence. The people of this caldera are converting to our religion as fast as our old followers from beyond the mountains are immigrating inside. Still, however, the people of this Subreddit, and more importantly, the leaders, are beginning to resist. We must not allow this to happen."
"Alright," Inferno nodded along. "You want to spread the message of your gods. Fine. I understand that. But what does that have to do with anyone else in this room?"
Jannis piped up. "I accompanied Zissman from beyond the mountains. I lead the armies of the faithful, while Zissman shepherds them towards salvation."
Anti spoke up at last. "Faker and I are his allies inside the Subreddit. I, and my supporters, bring in the funds for this venture of Zissman's, and Faker's minions are our eyes and ears. Enabler's spy networks are unparalleled through the realm. It's how we got in here in the first place."
Inferno pulled up a chair and, taking a seat, waved her hand dramatically. "Great. You all want to ally with the Scion here? That's fine. But what does this have to do with me?"
"We know of your family's power," Faker said as he pulled up a chair, "and we know of how it has waned through the generations. Your grandfather united the Kingdoms of Crosshares and Pollination, did he not? And now look at your realm. Your half-brother pissed those gains away during the Great Revolt and left you with what you had before. Decades of planning, wasted on idealism. Don't you want Pollination to have that power again?"
Inferno grimaced at the mention of her half-brother. "Ignis was a stubborn fool, but he was weakened by idealism. He never outgrew the optimism of the early reign, and it tempered his ambition and his ruthlessness. He spent money on culture rather than on power. It is a wonder he reigned as long as he did."
"Ignis?" Jannis questioned.
"You didn't really think we were all named Inferno, did you?" She laughed condescendingly, earning a spiteful glance from the champion. "On ascension, we choose a regal name. It just so happens that all the monarchs of Pollination chose the same one."
"Jannis and I are still somewhat unfamiliar with your people's customs," Zissman confessed reluctantly. "But we still speak the same language, write in the same script. We all want the same thing: power. It just happens that the power you want is distinctly more...temporal than the power we desire. We will need someone to rule the people while we guide them. We are more than happy to let you have Heroa, should you sign on with us."
Inferno steepled her fingers, contemplating his offer. She gave a cursory look to Jay, who merely shrugged.
"Very well. But I want to do this with as little bloodshed as possible. There's no guarantee we could win an all-out war, but if I play the game right, we can come out on top without spilling a single drop of blood. Well, in public."
"How long will that take?" Jannis questioned.
Inferno shrugged. "There's no way to know for sure. A few years, at least."
"Years?" Jannis let his disappointment sneak into his voice, but Zissman waved him away.
"Patience, my Champion. In those years we can consolidate our power, gain more allies, identify future threats." He turned to Inferno. "We have a deal?"
She nodded. "On the condition that polytheism is permitted within the borders of Pollination, and that I lay claim to Heroa."
"Then we are in accord," Zissman nodded. "We will stay in contact. My friends, let us leave."
Zissman, Faker and Jannis exited, but not before Jay could make one last glare at Jannis. Anti was the last to leave, smiling and giving Inferno a small bow before following her compatriots out the back entrance. When the door closed, Jay turned to his liege.
"My lady, forgive me for questioning your judgement, but do you really trust these men?"
Inferno smiled a bit. "No, Jay. I most assuredly do not. But look at the bigger picture!" She stood up and began walking down the hallway back to the throne room. "What do we stand to gain from this?"
"What do we stand to lose?" Jay muttered to himself, and he followed his liege down the hallway.