Throwing Eggs at Stone Walls
The whole capital shook its head, sighed as if the Empire itself had a fever.
Whispers circulated down the streets quicker than the wind: The Emperor has mobilized against the Ironforge Kingdom.
Some swore, some laughed, others drank themselves into oblivion trying to make sense of it.
But in the courtyard of the Grand General's house, things were not much different. The normally peaceful courtyard reeked with the smell of stale tea and resentment.
Thomas White, the old Prime Minister, swept in a whirlwind of gray robes, his cane shaking rapidly along the stone walkway. His creased face was etched with deep concern.
He came upon Eldric Bennett in the courtyard, shining bald head glistening softly in the afternoon sun, gazing at a jug of wine as if it contained the secrets of heaven.
Thomas hunched forward, his voice shaking with urgency.
"Eldric, what in the name of heaven is going on? His Majesty sending soldiers to besiege the Ironforge Kingdom — that's like hurling eggs against stone walls! Why didn't you intervene?"
Eldric's gaze rose slowly, his face trapped halfway between bitterness and amusement. He laughed a dry laugh.
"Stop him? I've already attempted it, Thomas. That's why I've been let go. His Majesty removed my rank and even reclaimed my military token."
He shrugged helplessly, lifting his cup.
"Now I'm just another old man with opinions — and no army to support them."
Thomas halted in mid-step, eyes bulging.
"Let go? You too?"
Eldric nodded, the edge of his mouth twisting in resignation.
"Aye. Appears our Emperor likes bold strokes. Telling him nowadays is like shouting into a hurricane."
Thomas breathed in sharply, almost staggering as he sat next to him.
"This is madness! If we win, it'll be a miracle — but if we fall…"
He left the words hanging, suffocating the air.
"If we lose, the Drake Kingdom will be ruined forever. This would destroy us completely."
Eldric sighed, stirring his cup.
"You don't think I realize that? But what choice do we have? The ink's dry, the men are marching, and the drums have already been beaten."
Thomas gripped his cane fiercely, his ancient eyes snapping with stubborn fire.
"Then let us go to the palace — together! Perhaps if we persuade him—"
Eldric cut him off with a dry chuckle, shaking his head.
"Don't bother. He won't listen. Not right now. He's… in that kind of mood."
He gestured toward the wine jug and forced a weary smile.
"Come. Instead of fighting a losing argument, join me for a drink. At least the wine won't argue back."
Thomas hesitated, then let out a long sigh and sat down beside him.
"Fine. But let me tell you, I'm drinking out of despair, not joy."
Eldric raised his cup.
"Good. Despair goes well with old wine."
They sipped in silence, the courtyard resonating with the soft rustle of leaves and the acid laughter of two men who had outlived their usefulness.
________________________________________
Somewhere in the distance, hundreds of miles away, the Ironforge Kingdom had heard the news.
Within their imperial palace, the mood was tempestuous.
The Ironforge Emperor — a towering, broad-shouldered figure with a beard large enough to scare a tiger — struck the jade table with a closed fist hard enough to make the inkstones shake.
"What audacity! How dare the Drake Kingdom deploy soldiers now? Do they believe we are crippled? Do they think Ironforge is a kingdom of fools?"
His bellow shook the hall. Ministers cringed.
One shaking official advanced, speaking low but in a tone of urgency.
Your Majesty… we are equally perplexed. The Drake Kingdom is a Minor Kingdom to ours. No rational monarch would antagonize us while we are still assembling. And yet, the intelligence is definite — they have already sent out their army, and their vanguard is approaching our border."
The Emperor's countenance clouded. He stood up suddenly, his robes billowing like tempests.
"Fools! Blind fools! Very well then — if they want war, we will give them war!"
He addressed his generals, blazing eyes.
"Order up the troops. Roll out the banners. Mobilize two hundred thousand men — no, three hundred thousand! I want their arrogance trampled under our feet! I want their whole army taken prisoner alive if it is possible!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" the generals thundered together, saluting as they hastened to obey his command.
But the sound of their voices had not yet died away when a messenger flung open the doors, sweating and dust-coated from the road. He dropped to one knee, panting for breath.
"Report! Urgent report!"
The Emperor's glare could have shattered stone.
"Speak!"
Your Majesty— the Drake Kingdom's two-hundred-thousand-strong army has already launched an attack! Two of our cities are already lost!"
The hall fell into stunned silence.
Even the air seemed to halt.
The Emperor blinked once.
".What?"
The ministers exchanged fearful glances, their faces ashen in disbelief.
"Already?" one of them whispered.
"That is impossible! How did they manage to advance that quickly?
The Ironforge Emperor stared toward the horizon beyond the palace walls, his jaw tightening. The crimson glow of the setting sun washed over his face, half shadow, half fury.
"So quick…" he muttered under his breath. "That fool of an Emperor… or perhaps—"
He stopped himself, his expression hardening.
"No matter. If he wants to play this game, I'll show him how an Empire crushes ambition."
Outside, war drums started rumbling deep, rolling, and foreboding — shuddering the Ironforge capital awake.
A storm approached.
And somewhere far away, deep within the Drake Kingdom, Lucian Drake was most likely grinning.