And this is what she dreamed............
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The empire
...Silk, the new Caesar of the Seven Isles. Caesar of Tazlure. The Citadel had changed under his hand, no longer the dirty, corrupt, misdirected, pathetic mass of worthless bureaucracy that had, under the inept rulership of his dear friend Anochrim, grown impotent, weak, and powerless. It didn't take long for Silk to seal his control over the Advisory Council and then abolish it, leaving only him in complete power over the Empire. Not even the Inner Circle survived, for he had killed, dislodged, discredited, or converted them all, one by one, until only he was left. By virtue of his political advisors scattered all throughout the nations of the Seven Isles, the rulers of it's member nations obeyed....or they were replaced with those that would. And they were always under levy, always bound to Imperial draft...and that made the Empire strong, strong enough to not only stop the Oneist advances all over the world, but strong enough to turn the tide and send them BACK to the lands from which they came...and so much stronger than the nations they left behind, nations that could no longer challenge the Caesar with their audacity and their independence. Nations that he delicately played against one another to insure they stayed weak and pliant.
But this safety and security had come at a price. No longer would the Tyrant suffer the horrible dangers of lethargy and inaction that brought them low before. No longer would he idly stand by, surrendering power for those that had grown too liberal and too patient with those that would invite the worst of evils into HIS world. Never again, Anochrim. If you had any measure of foresight, you would be sitting here beside me. Once again, he had faced Pan...and once again they had disagreed, but a GOD had bent to his will, accepting the Tyrant's methods as the only way to protect humanity...the only way to survive...and his price accepted without hesitation.
This time, there would be no elections, no favor, no chances. A police state, everything was held to question, even here in his own throne room...a room that had once been the Antechamber of the Citadel. Now it was his, the towering ceiling far above black and dark like a starless night sky. A series of golden lamps illuminated only a path leading up to his tall, iron throne...Silk had cast his throne from the armors of the fallen Paladins of the One...standing upwards of twelve feet off the ground, the broad, wide, unbroken circle of silver that had once tipped the Prodesse Dominicus Cathedral in World's Mouth now the seat upon which his majesty rested. A row of steps lead up to the height of the throne could be seen, each one cast and engraved by rulers of nations that begged for his favor and his assistance, each one kept just on the verge of extinction to another and designed to turn their bitter, oppressed rage against each other. The far walls of the Antechamber were obscured in darkness, hiding the banners and flags of enemies fallen...the Condotierre, the Kingstone Guard, the Emerald Guard, there were dozens, and each one a faded reminder of the powers he had overcome to bring his peace to all of Tazlure. And standing before these tabards were soldiers...not from his armies or those of his nations, but of the Brotherhood, the men that had indeed brought him to power by way of his ruthless, remorseless cunning.
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The rebellion
Freedom is a precious commodity and when someone collects all of it, there is soon nothing left. This is the moment that hidden in the deep of the night Rebellion's start.
So this rebellion started when several people where send off to their death by the emperor. Dort would be the stage of their forspoken demise, because one of them was a former servant of the lord of Dort. His name was Gavin, also known as Grey Wolf. He had served his lord well until the rule of the empire became to heavy. Now he only serves freedom and the Red Warrior.
Also a Pannish resistance fighter Abeo, also known as Firesword, follower of the blood, a now almost non existent religious group of followers of Pan.
The third was Sevti, high priestess of Pan, and unknown to the emperor, wife and love of the Pannish fighter.
It was she who drugged the guards after seducing them with her elusive smile's, and so made it possible for the men to escape.
Now all three of them are hiding in a small snow covered cabin in the hills of Dort. High prices have been put on their heads and spies and emperial soldiers are hunting them down. But they are still planning to strike back. As freedom has no price, and maybe............maybe more resistance fighters would join them and become famous.