The Plegian Capital of Thebes was, if one asked an Ylissean, built beneath the bones of their heathen god, Grima, as proof of their undying devotion to him. In truth, the city was built about half a mile south of the bones, as building a city beneath Grima's bones would have been incredibly difficult, if not bordering on sacreligious unless one wanted to turn the entire capital into what would legally be a temple. Theocratic Kingdom though Plegia may be, it would be impractical to enforce Clerical Law upon the citizenry, especially in the capital. (There was a temple at the site of Grima's Bones, the 'Temple of the Tomb of the First Daughter', commonly known simply as the Temple of the Tomb, possibly the most holy site to the Grimleal faith.)
Thebes was also were the refugees from the Eastern Provinces had fled to during and after the crusade. Most of them hailed from the Duchies of Altea and Macedon, but there was a sizable northern minority, from the Duchy of Grust.
Four children ran through the market, tailed not so subtly by a pair of royal guards. The annoyed looks on the faces of the storekeepers soon fading into polite smiles as it dawned on them just who the children were. The strange, mock 'Inner Circle' of the ten year old heir to the throne, Robin Alexios. Whilst the noble families of Plegia were slowly starting to send youngest sons and daughters to serve as companions to the Prince, none of them had yet become his friends.
"Come on Sunshine!" The eldest of the quartet called out. Gaius of Thebes was, in his own words, 'The Greatest Pickpocket in Thebes'. The twelve year old was almost eternally cheerful, despite his poor lot in life. He had met Robin when the latter had accidently slipped out of the Palace during the crusade, and introduced him to the common people of his nation. Whilst to start with, Gaius had unashamedly used Robin as a way to get free stuff and good food, he had quickly found himself genuinely liking the young Prince, who he had taken to calling 'Bubbles'. "You need to keep up, else they'll leave us behind!"
'Sunshine' was in fact the Duchess of Macedon. Tharja Argead was both the youngest and newest of the young Crown Prince's circle of friends. It was decidedly unusual for one of the four Ducal Family Heads (or their heirs) to stay at the capital. But as Macedon had been one of the areas worst hit during the crusade, her maternal Uncle and Regent, Campari Aeniad had used his authority to move the Macedonian court to Thebes until such a time as the political landscape of the continent calmed back down to peace. Whilst Campari did love his niece, he had been utterly unprepared to raise a child, which he had had to do since Tharja's parents had fallen in the Crusade when she had been merely a few months old, leaving the servants and tutors to do so whilst he lead the Macedonian forces.
As such, she kept a small, half happy, half embarrassed smile on her face as she ran along the streets of Thebes, her dark hair in twintails and hugging a tome close to her chest. Due to her upbringing, she lacked any friends. Thankfully, Robin was quick to take her under his wing and showed her the capital. Whilst she preferred the quiet solace of the royal library, the chance for mischief was a surefire lure to get her outside.
The last of Robin's trio of friends was Lauren of Troy, or 'Rocky' as Gaius had dubbed her. The daughter of a Priest, and Robin's oldest friend. When he had been merely a distant member of the Royal Family, their friendship was entirely acceptable. Now though, the middling Lords of Plegia had started to look upon their bond with jealousy. Neither Robin nor his father cared. The King was of the opinion that his son would one day need loyal allies, trustworthy allies, in his future as one of the rulers of what would be the main power on the continent, and if the daughter of a Priest from some minor city in the middle of nowhere could prove loyal and true, then that mattered more than the grumblings of the power hungry.
The quartet (and their guards), eventually arrived in a quiet part of the market district, marked out in particular by a simple fountain.
"Hello Mister Gee!" Robin exclaimed to the man sat on the bench by the fountain. Set at his side was a single bread roll, and an old, battered flash made of metal.
"..Good afternoon, My Prince." The man greeted with a minute smile. "Forgive that I do not bow, old Gangrel is feeling under the weather as of late."
"You're not that old Mister Gee." Lauren chimed in.
"Yes! You are just a little under the weather, that's all!" Robin declared confidently.
"...You are very kind to say, my Prince." He chuckled, before spying Tharja. He inclined his head politely in her direction. "...Hello, Mi'lady Sunshine. I am glad to see you out and about."
"H-Hi, M-Mister Gee." Tharja tried to hide behind her tome. "...H-How are you? A-Are you better?"
"Of course! Do you really think that an illness is enough to slow down the great Gangrel?!" He barked a loud laugh. Gangrel was not the real name of the man slumped on the old stone bench, but it was what he went by. He was younger than he actually appeared, but with his gaunt face, unkempt red hair, and consistent coughing, one could be forgiven for making the impression that he was far older.
The quartet let out a laugh, and dashed off again.
It was one of the guards watching over the Prince that approached him, sitting himself down next to the redhead. Gangrel eyed him with barely disguised suspicion, and lifted his battered metal flask up to his lips. Letting out a disgusted sigh, he growled. "What do you want?"
"...Why is it that the Prince trusts you so, thief?" The guard asked, resting a hand on the hit of their blade.
Gangrel rolled his eyes. "Because Sugarcube does."
The guard shot him a blank stare. "...Who?"
"Gaius! Because Gaius trusts me." Gangrel explained, taking a sip again. "..since I look after him."
"...What do you mean?" The guard questioned.
"Someone needed to run the pickpockets in this district of the city." Gangrel said with a shrug. "Might as well be someone that actually gives a damn about them...for however long I've got."
"..Is it working?" The guard asked quietly. "Are you getting better?"
"...No." Gangrel admitted. "But seeing me take the medicine makes the kids think I will. If that keeps them from being worried, then that is reason enough to take it."
"I see. That's pretty noble of you." The guard told him with a small smile. "Dare I ask what's in the medicine?"
"It's mostly cinnabar apparently, with a few herbs and spices to 'take the edge off', whatever that means. Does nothing for the taste." Gangrel grumbled as he took another sip, and promptly grimaced. "I dread to wonder how they will survive after..whatever this is...finally takes me."
"...I am...certain that his Majesty will be able to do something for them." The guard offered a smile. "He will ensure they are looked after."
Gangrel let out a wheezing laugh. "Then why has he not done so already? His Majesty has all the power he could want. The power to do whatever he wants. He hasn't helped us."
The guard said nothing in response, and Gangrel snorted. "..'S what I thought."
Robin's voice cut into the pairs conversation. "U-Uhm..both of you may want to see this.."
The guard helped Gangrel to his feet, and the two followed after the young Prince. Soon, upon reaching the main street down from the Palace, they were met by a large crowd. Over the din of the people however, the clinking and clanking of armour was loud and clear. Hundreds of soldiers were marching through the street. It was Gangrel that spoke first."...Well damn.."
It was the Blackguard. The army of the Dolhr Duchy, the ducal territory the Royal Family held. With armour dark as the night sky, wicked looking pikes, and silvery cloaks, they represented the might of the Capital. Its numbers where cut in half during the Crusade, and most, if not all of its members were out for blood. Following them were more soldiers, from the various regions of Plegia, with banners of many colours fluttered above the soldiers.
His father rode that their head, looking resplendent in a set of Mage Regalia, of an appropriately extravagant standard as befitted a King. Sat atop his head was an ugly crown of twisted black metal, the war crown. He brought the soldiers to a halt, and rode forward a short distance, and wheeled around. He cleared his throat, and his voice boomed across the market. "It is with a heavy heart...that so soon after achieving a peace accord with our ancient enemy, we must march to battle and war once again! Violent radicals have broken away from the Halidom because they value power over peace! Who wish to continue the hateful campaign of blood and hate!"
Harsh whispers broke out amongst the crowds. Validar raised a hand, and they were silenced.
"So I say this, my people! Let us crush them! Let us end the ideology of that bitch Isolde! Let the last war fought by Plegia and Ylisse be one fought together against a vile foe! For our Children! For Plegia! For Grima!"
There were cheers and cries, and Validar guided his horse around again, and started to ride once more. From where they were stood, Robin felt Tharja freeze beside him, and soon saw why. Her Uncle was riding by. Campari offered a wave towards her, before continuing on his way.
Then it was Robin's turn to freeze. For he was something that shouldn't be amongst the army, a banner that displayed a wholly unexpected sigil, a golden fleur-de-lis on a black field.
But that didn't make sense.
Because it would mean his sister, Aversa, was going to war.
I must apologise for the delay on this one. I have recently changed jobs and I'm still settling into my new schedule. The next DDaEP update should be in the next week or so, hopefully. In other news, the first side story for DDaEP is up, so go check it out if you're following that story.