The Fall of Versano

With the Imperial forces suffering a humiliating defeat in the face of a rebel rabble, and the Steward was keen to stretch his newfound muscle. He immediately sought about shoring up Arlessa, erecting a 15-meter high wall around the perimeter, and gathering the rest of the standing army to attack Versano whilst sending a crack team of assassins with the Feyrock chests.… His goal, to obliterate the rebels as they celebrated their recent victory.

The Fight for Versano's Heart
“Sir, we’ve managed to evacuate about One hundred and thirty five thousand people out of Versano, how much more time do we have?” Hadir said to Gregor, as they both knelt down by the pile of chests chained together that was due to blow up with magical energy any moment.

“None, unless we can manage to disarm this device right now!” Gregor shouted back, before continuing to examine the device holding multiple glowing gemstones which was attached to one of the chests, looking for any flaw or weakness that he could exploit to destroy what seemed to be some sort of makeshift explosive. It did not help that every now and then, an Imperial would charge in and disrupt their work, and though they would drive them off, Gregor had no time to heal the wounded. The only reason he was still here was that he was hoping he would be able to disarm the device in time.

“If only the deva was here, she could help us” Gregor thought, but she wasn’t. King Rendon, possibly afraid of the damage she caused to Arlessa, decided to have her kept in a chapel to the Court of Four in the countryside, definitely too far away to help Versano...they were on their own.

“Lord, a force of Imperials approach, what shall we do?” Hadir said to Gregor, to which he looked up and his heart sank. He saw a large, well armoured force approaching them, and he knew they could not hold them off.

“Run and do not look back...Versano has fallen” Gregor said, and the men around him wasted no time in fleeing. Gregor decided to stay behind...some feeling of peace compelled him to do so. A blinding white light started to glow around the feyrock, before it seemed to continue to expand outward. Gregor did not try to run...he knew he would not manage to outrun it. The light caught up to him, and he could feel the pain as if he was on fire all over his body, but then a voice said in his head. “You shall not die today...I have plans that you must live to fulfil” and Gregor knew nothing for a while. He awoke much later, slightly unsure of what had happened, till he remembered the feyrock bomb managing to go off, and a white light enveloping all, to which he opened his eyes. The voice that was in his head…he was sure it was the deva’s, but it couldn’t be…she was too far away to do anything, surely. Everywhere around him was in ruin, you could not recognise that this was a residential district. The smell of burnt flesh was in the air, and he could see the remains of both Imperial and Royalist uniforms on them, the corpses themselves charred to the bone. As he wandered toward the part of Versano that looked intact, he could feel the remains of a large amount of magical energy, but it was unclean and it made him retch into the remains of the fountain he quickly leant on.

It was only then that he noticed that his clothing was singed all along one side, and his short blade was no longer on his hip. He took off one of the corpses a large two-handed blade, damaged. He then strode forth, seeking to find anything in the desolation. He continued walking, surprised to hear that there was still fighting in amongst the ruins, clearly getting louder as he walked on.

“You will be paying for war crimes, you know that don’t you?!” a loud, gruff voice called out, and Gregor thought he had been discovered for a moment. But he realised that the voice came from down a crumbled alleyway, and it was not he that was being talked at. Rather, it was his Father King Rendon, who somehow managed to not only have himself captured by Imperials, but had been badly wounded as well.

The Imperials continued their tirade “Oh don’t worry, ‘your majesty’, you’ll be having a trial of course, and it will be completely fair!” the same guy finished, sarcasm thick in his words.

Before Gregor could cry out in outrage and anger, another voice cried out “For the Kazmir!” as two arrows flew from the roof of one of the buildings and hit the leading Imperialists, quickly followed by a Kazmir armed with a blade and bow, who slaughtered the three other Imperialists and saved the King singlehandedly, the Imperials not actually expecting anyone to attack them weren’t able to draw so much as a sword.

Gregor quickly ran towards Rendon, whose face was pale in pain and shock, not believing what had happened before his eyes. Gregor went to start a healing chant on him, but Rendon pushed him away with his good arm, muttering that he was alright.

“You must go and rescue whatever treasure you can, the Imperialists are looting the bank and jewellery stores! I will be alright, I’ll have this kazmir escort me out of the city” and Gregor was sent off towards the financial district. But by the time he got there, he could see a transport wagon with Imperial symbols crossing the bridge out of town, a line of soldiers holding off the Royalists trying to break through.

Just as it seemed the wagon would get away, a man crawled out from under the wagon killed the men driving it. Imperials rushed at him from all sides, but he pulled a vial from amongst his robes and jumped off the wagon into the river, smashing the vial amongst the treasures in the wagon. A great explosion of fire immediately was seen from the contents, which either was blown into pieces or incinerated by the bottled Dragons Fire, an extremely volatile substance used typically in mining.

The Aftermath
The Royalists soon left the city after that, burdened with the wounded and the dead, and marched for the chapel in the countryside, creating a makeshift wooden fort as riders were sent to tell the local lords of what had happened. Many Royalists who sought to only live peacefully were filled with anger and joined the military forces, and even men on the Imperial side deserted due to the horrible destruction seen that day. For the next week, day and the night, you could hear the wailing of the wounded, mixed in with the cries of anguish and suffering and in pain as they found their loved ones in amongst the dead...all except one.

King Rendon didn’t make a noise as he looked upon his daughter, lying peacefully as if sleeping. Salren showed neither damage nor blemish on her skin, besides the hole in her chest where a shard of Razorglass pierced it, yet she had been cleaned, and dressed in funeral clothing. All around, you could hear the other priests and clerics taking the men towards the wood piles, ready to invoke the final funeral rites.

“Mi-lord, it’s time” Gregor said quietly, and Rendon did not object as four men grabbed each corner of the stretcher that bore Salren, and carried it towards a wood pyre away from the others, where a crowd had gathered to say farewell to their crown princess. Once Salren was placed on top and the four stretcher bearers had backed away, both Gregor and Rendon stood beside her, King Rendon with a flaming torch in his hand. Already, you could see the fires being lit as other priests and clerics had finished their incantations and prayers, and Gregor looked into the crowd, his arms held out as to address them.

“Hear all I shall say, as I stand here before you, to say farewell to beloved Crown Princess Salren, taken by the mercy of Asha in her prime of youth” Gregor started and the crowd now had his full attention, paying heed to every word he had to say.

“As mortals, we cannot understand the whims and actions taken by the Gods, and we do not understand the reasoning of why certain men die, whilst others still live. But I ask of thee, that you do not lose hope, for when you are born, your life has already been decided of when you shall die, and nothing can change that.”

Gregor paused, catching his breath before he continued “Today the Gods had decided to take Salren away from the struggles of our currently violent world, where change and danger is very real to us all. I ask that you do not completely despair, for Salren shall now being living forever more by the Gods side, forever in peace knowing no more pain, suffering or fears. Nay, it is now us we must look out for, as it is we who shall continue to shape our destinies, and forge what the Imperials call a rebellion into our own manifest destiny, our own Kingdom!”

“The King shall now place the coins of passage over his eyes to pay the Gatelord, and I shall now invoke her final rites.” Rendon and Gregor bent down and softly placed two large golden coins over Salren’s closed eyes and Rendon hugged the body, and kissed her on the forehead, before stepping back. Gregor stood over the body; his hands stretched out over it, and started his prayer.

“Oh, Great Court of Four, heed my call, and listen as I commend this spirit to your great hall. Markoth! Guide and continue to teach us, as you once did this young soul. Bran! Grant the courage for all of us to endure, as Salren once did. Vance, gift us the wisdom and patience, to wait for our own time to see him once more. And Asha! May your mercy forever be with us, and allow Salren to rest forever more by your side.” At this moment, Rendon lowered his torch onto the pyre, and it went up in flames instantly, rising high into the night sky.

Rendon looked down at his people, and spoke with them, a voice full of grief, yet with authority of the mightiest of Kings. “The Imperials seek to panic us, to turn us away from our worthy cause...and they have failed. Nay, not only failed, but instead united us! We shall now forever be bonded by the grief and suffering we have felt on this day. This day shall never be forgotten, it shall always be a day of mourning for the rest of time.” At this moment, men came forth with drinks of wine, ale and mead - dispersing it amongst the crowd, each holding a cup or tankard of drink.

“To the dead!” King Rendon cried out, taking a drink from his cup. “To the dead” the crowd responded, drinking deep of their cups. “I must also now announce more news. With my Daughter dead, I announce Gregor Kalevala, my Son, Crown Prince, first in line for the throne" “Hail! Hail!” the people cried out, drinking what was left in their cups and asking for more...

“With the mourning over, it is time to celebrate the fact we are still alive, and we shall have our revenge on the Imperials. To a better dawn!” Rendon continued

“To a better dawn!” the crowd cheered in response, The mourning continued the next day, but this is supposed to help with the grieving process...a tactic that usually works. Gregor himself was not moved by this, and instead moved off, to seek peace in the chapel. He was surprised to find that he was not alone once inside, but that the deva was in there instead.

“You seek not the company of your fellow men?” she asked playfully, as if she already knew the answer.

“Nay, I wish for some peace and quiet....it has been a long day” Gregor responded; only now allowing himself to think of the ominous voice he heard before the explosion.

“I can leave if you would like” she asked, and once again, it sounded as if she already knew the answer.

“No... I wouldn’t mind your company” he quickly responded, “Why did you save me, and no-one else?” he added, remembering the voice in the city.

“Even I have secrets and dreams…you must content with knowing you are still alive” she answered, before she left him alone, to ponder why.

The Explosion
In 341AT, during a summer night, Versano, a once beautiful city that homed nearly 250,000 people, was decimated by an explosive Feyrock pile. This Feyrock was planted near the military district of Versano, in the most heavily populated area of the city. In the diagram, you can see the total destruction.

Radius 1 – This blast area turned into a massive creator. Anything in this area was incinerated, fatalities here were 100%

Radius 2 – This blast area was turned to dirt and ash, any solid pieces of rubble in the area also turned into a gemstone called Razorglass. Fatalities here were 80%.

Radius 3 – Building in this area were often reduced to rubble, suffering massive damage from falling upper stories or large debris from the blast. Tumbling structures often tore down many nearby buildings. Fatalities here were 50%