Well I'm back again, getting you all a chapter during thanksgiving vacation, last day of it and late in the evening but hey, still counts. But hey, in all honesty procrastination has struck again and also I'm not completely sure where to head with this story right now. I'm not gonna stop writing it but I need to come up with something so this chapter is mostly just a recap of some of what's happened from a new perspective. Comments and criticism are appreciated.

How would one even go about acquiring the rights to 40k? And why would I even put in the effort?

City life

Lugan was a large and prosperous city-state in its are of Riln, none in its religion could fight them, but Lugan was content with merely trading. So without any enemies to fight and wars to wage the city-state also became very wealthy. Where once money was spent on defenses it was then spent on luxury and opulence. A few centuries ago the ruler of Lugan decided to renovate the keep of Lugan and turn it into a palace. It took years and large amount of money but eventually the tower and parapet's of the keep mixed with gardens and grandiose halls. The final product was a mixture of keep and palace, pleasing to the eyes while still hard to attack. And ever since it had stood tall above the city staring down at the sparking city below it.

But while the palace has remained the inhabitants have changed. When the Imperium came Lugan's monarch's saw the threat the invaders posed and moved to fight against them, of course even with a large amount of their resources devoted to fighting the imperium they barely managed to stop their advance for a couple days. By the time they arrived at Lugan the people had given up, the Imperium walked through open gates into a defeated city. The old monarchs were dethroned and cast out and a new monarch was sat upon the throne, a southerner from the South Pole where it was verdant and green. This new monarch was loyal to the Imperium as were his descendants, their lineage was known as the line of Sheldar. The current Sheldar on the throne by the time I arrived in Lugan was Ostar Sheldar, as doggedly loyal to the Imperium as the rest of his family. However his advisors were not all as loyal as he was.

Few were completely loyal to the Sheldar line in Lugan. The people and the noble houses of Lugan were too entrenched to move directly against without the Imperiums aid, but they were content to let the planet govern itself as long as tithes were paid and worship of the Emperor was enforced. So they forever remained in a precarious position where neither side could fight the other openly but they still strive to outdo one another on the field of politics and intrigue.

Currently one specific noble was sitting at a table in a room high up in the palace which gave a gorgeous view of the city below. The room he was in was decorated with fur rugs, a gorgeous curtained bed, and a terrace one could step out on. He was sitting at a table crowded with paper going over reports and ledgers. His name was Gren Despon, father of Saradiel, Hadro, and Jelk, and the current leader of the house of Despon.

Things had been going mostly well for the family recently, barring one incident. That being the attack on their caravan that had occurred rather recently, a good amount of the caravans guards had died in the skirmish and while he didn't know them personally Gren never liked to see the people who worked for him die. He'd hired some new guards soon after and for a while he kept getting reports of the survivors of the attack slipping off and not always being present when they should have been, it he let it slide assuming they were recovering from the attack. The reports died down after a couple weeks anyway, so it seemed like it wasn't an issue.

It also seems his sons had brought a large Calka back into the city for an alleged customer. However when he looked over the documents of their deals he couldn't find who they were selling it to. Although there was a lot of paperwork it could have got lost in and some of the people in Lugan would order some weird things occasionally so it didn't concern Gren all that much.

He had also heard that his children had gone on a picnic a short while ago, and while he didn't completely approve of his daughter going outside the walls, he was happy that they got a chance to just relax and enjoy some time together. Hadro and Jelk were almost always busy taking care of the more mundane things while he and his wife stayed at the palace to advise the king, so Saradiel was often left with no one but the servants for company. While this did sadden Gren he had his duty to the city and he could not just take time off to do as he wanted. Though maybe soon he could return back to the family estate with his wife to see their children again, it had been months since last they saw them and with no caravan trips or palace events planned for a while he wasn't all to busy. He'd just need to ask for the king's permission.

Gren's mood soured upon thinking of their "king", or more accurately the puppet who sat the throne and claimed to be king. He hated what their proud city had become, no longer mighty and with a bright future but instead chained by their so called "saviors". But he also wouldn't fight back, he swore loyalty to the throne and whoever sat on it, and he would stay loyal, but that didn't mean he had to like it. However throwing off their current king could also bring them the ire of their benefactors, the invaders had already shown no hesitance to burn cities to the ground and he didn't want to bring their wrath upon their city. So he and Lugan might have to suffer, but they would survive as they always had, through thick and thin by the grace of Deltha and Sal, the gods of the rivers. The invaders may try to stamp out their gods but a century since they began trying to do it they had yet to succeed.

Gren was brought out of his contemplation and thoughts when a servant opened the door to his room.

"My lord, a meeting is going to begin the throne room soon." Gren nodded in acknowledgement.

"Thank you, I'll be on may way in a moment." And motioned for the servant to leave. Gren rose from his seat at the table and ran his hand through his brown hair with strands of grey beginning to form. He was in his early forties and time was starting to catch up with him. After tidying up for a second he opened the door and walked out into the hall and started on his way to the throne room. As he passed through the halls of the palace he had to stop and take a look around a couple times, even after years it all still amazed him. The high ceiling and beautiful windows, the views and gardens, the beauty and fine art on display. But he also looked down on the city through a windows and saw the people going about their daily life, just as much a part of the beautiful picture of their city as anything else. Maybe someday they could be rid of the invaders and this view would be all the prettier Gren thought as he continued his walk towards the throne room.